Magic is Might
by Vivien Lestrange
Summary: When Harry Potter dies, the Wizarding World loses its last symbol of hope. The only place were British witches and wizards still resist is Hogwarts. Lord Voldemort sends his most faithful followers to put an end to this resistance once and for all. (Warnings inside)
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to the books, movies etc. This story is only written for recreational purposes. No money is being made. This disclaimer applies for all the chapters of this story.

**AN and Warnings:** This is the prequel to my second fic Age of the Serpent. Both stories can be read independently as well though. The story will be Neville-centric with some parts from the Death Eaters' points of view.

This is a story where Voldemort wins and establishes his power. Harry dies in the prologue. There will be mentions of suicidal thoughts, mental illness, psychological manipulation and torture with its consequences.

* * *

**Magic is Might**

**Prologue**

Rodolphus slowly returned to Malfoy Manor. He would have preferred to return to his family's ancestral home but Bellatrix wanted to stay where the Dark Lord was. Of course. Sometimes he simply wanted to leave her with him and return on his own. In the end, he never quite brought himself to do so.

The parts of Rodolphus' life that didn't involve Bellatrix had improved greatly since the beginning of December though. The Dark Lord had finally realised that it would be more sensible to put the former Healer Rodolphus in charge of Saint Mungo's than Thorfin Rowle who had no idea about proper behaviour in a hospital whatsoever.

Rodolphus had been shocked at the state he had found the hospital in. The Healers from the contagious disease department simply certified illnesses for everyone who wanted to get around the new Ministry laws. Among them serious afflictions like Spattergroit which was almost always lethal if not treated in time.

The poison department had secretly refused to give Death Eaters and "traitors" who had fallen victim to highly dangerous "joke" substances treatment because they secretly agreed with the people responsible. Rodolphus had told them clearly that he gave them only one more chance. If anything like this happened again, they'd be on their way to Azkaban.

The worst part had been the department where Rodolphus had worked in the past, Spelldamage. The new Head Healer Stebbins was completely overstrained and didn't manage to get anything done properly. Rodolphus had come across a completely exhausted patient, who constantly vomited slugs. No one had found the one minute necessary to counter the curse. Another patient in the same room had his leg re-grown with Skele-Gro while the other patients in the ward were forced to listen to his agonized screams. The situation in the ward for long-term residents had been even worse than that. There hadn't even been a Healer in charge of the ward because they were needed elsewhere. The more recent Cruciatus curse patients would go into convulsions caused by relapses without any Healer nearby to intervene quickly Some of the patients had soiled their beds or had gotten bedsore and no one noticed this in time either. Long-term-Cruciatus curse patients were force-fed a completely contra-indicated potion because it made them docile and easier to deal with while being cheaper and easier to brew than more appropriate alternatives.

Rodolphus knew that Saint Mungo's was no exception there. Things went badly everywhere at the moment. He, unlike Snape or Yaxley was at least able to report improvements at every meeting. Only recently, the Dark Lord had praised him because both Healers and patients at Saint Mungo's seemed to accept the new order better than people anywhere else. Longbottom had not visited the hospital since the takeover, not even at Christmas.

Rodolphus was torn out of his thoughts when someone with swirling black robes and hair bumped into him.

"Good afternoon Bellatrix. What's the matter?" Rodolphus was certain that she had not left the house so quickly to fall into his arms. The times when he might have been received such overt displays of affection were long gone.

"Have to go. Potter. Selwyn and Travers have Potter. Lovegood," she panted.

"You're sure?" Catching Harry Potter would definitely improve the Dark Lord's mood considerably. "You think they need reinforcement?"

"Need to be there. Selwyn and Travers want to take all the glory."

Rodolphus suppressed a sigh. Of course. She was scared that someone might threaten her privileged position with Voldemort. It only existed in her mind anyway since Azkaban but so far, Rodolphus hadn't tried to tell her so. Either way, if there were more people to deal with Potter, he might be less lucky than usually.

They both apparated towards the house of Xenophilius Lovegood, a batty old wizard who ran a newspaper that only printed rubbish until he had decided to support Harry Potter. The Dark Lord had ordered to capture his daughter to stop this which had worked. A rather crude measure in Rodolphus' opinion but so far, it had proven effective.

When they arrived, they faced a heap of rubble. In the middle of it all, Harry Potter and his Mudblood friend were visible. She just tried to disapparate them both. Bellatrix' spell stopped the magic just in time.

"You!" Potter yelled in fury getting out of the Mudblood's grip. "Stupefy!"

Bellatrix easily blocked the spell.

The Mudblood raised her own wand and tried to attack Rodolphus. At the same moment, another spell was directed at him. There had to be an invisible person here as well. Probably wearing an Invisibility Cloak. Rodolphus dodged the two spells before he cast a nonverbal spell to remove the cloak. A red-headed youth appeared.

"Aha, the Spattergroit patient," Rodolphus said. "What a wondrous recovery."

"Expelliarmus!" Weasley shouted.

Rodolphus' shield charm deflected the spell easily.

The three teenagers began to throw all the fifth-year duelling spells they knew at the two attackers in quick succession. None of these spells was hard to block but they did keep the two Death Eaters busy. All three of them were rather good at deflecting the spells directed at them by Rodolphus and Bellatrix.

Rodolphus quickly glanced around, his shield charm protecting him. Selwyn, Travers and Lovegood had all been buried under stones and other rubble. They were still stirring, Rodolphus couldn't tell how badly injured they were. He'd take care of them later, Potter was more important now.

Rodolphus managed to duck from one of Potter's spells just in time. They became more and more powerful. The youths weren't very well-trained but they knew that this was about life or death and fought accordingly. Rodolphus still hoped that they'd be able to subdue them even though it was three against two. Bellatrix was an excellent duellist but the chance to catch Potter made her rash. She so desperately wanted to capture her Master's nemesis that she was losing focus. Rodolphus didn't like this. She had always been the better duellist and his skills hadn't exactly improved in Azkaban. He attempted the Collabefio-spell against the Mudblood but she managed to block it.

Rodolphus decided to use the same trick he had applied against Alice Longbottom. He had learned in healing training how to momentarily severe the connection between someone's mind and magic. It was useful in delirious patients and helpful in battle. Rodolphus cast the spell on the Mudblood and saw the determination in her face make way for despair. She knew that something was wrong but couldn't understand what it was. Bellatrix used her confusion for a well-placed stunning spell. With a swift movement of her wand, she lifted the unconscious girl into the air and threw her fifty feet away. This way, the others couldn't easily revive her.

The boys howled with rage. Both of them attacked Bellatrix at the same time. She managed to block Weasley's Petrificus Totalus when Potter did something completely unexpected. "Crucio!" he shouted. Bellatrix didn't bother with a powerful counter spell. She obviously didn't think Potter would be able to get the curse to work. She was wrong. The torture curse hit her full force and she went to the ground, screaming in pain. There had been a time when the sight would have shocked Rodolphus but the Dark Lord and the Aurors had taught him better. Bellatrix screaming in pain did not distract him from what he had to do, keep fighting his opponents. Weasley gazed at the scene in front of him open-mouthed. For a moment, he seemed to forget completely where he was. Rodolphus stunned him as well and brought him down beside his girlfriend.

Meanwhile, Bellatrix had recovered from her surprise and regained her will to fight. "Sectumsempra!" she shrieked among her screams.

Potter, completely immersed in the dark magic he wasn't accustomed to, didn't notice the curse in time. It hit him full force. Blood was spraying everywhere. The boy's screams replaced those of Bellatrix. For a few moments, he was writhing and screaming in agony, than he lay still.

"Rodolphus, do something. He mustn't die. The Dark Lord wants him alive!" Bellatrix screamed beside herself with fear and rage.

Rodolphus looked down upon the boy's body. Bellatrix' curse had been strong enough to cut through his rip case and right into his heart. Other parts of his body were open as well.

"It's too late. He's beyond my skill to save. You've done a thorough job."

"No, no! The Dark Lord wants him!" Bellatrix screamed. "He will punish us so badly."

Rodolphus hoped that Voldemort would simply be glad because Potter was dead. It didn't really matter who killed him, did it?

Bellatrix however seemed to disagree. She looked completely panicky. Rodolphus felt torn between promising her that he would take the blame and feeling tired of doing this all the time.

"We need to get back. The prisoners and the body need to be taken to Malfoy Manor. I'll go and see if I can do anything for the others," he said.

Bellatrix didn't seem to want to go on her own. "He will punish us, he will punish us" she kept repeating.

Rodolphus shook his head. He would have to help Selwyn and Travers on his own. There weren't too many stones above them and he got them out rather quickly. Both of them cursed when they realised that someone else had achieved what they had come for. When they learned that Potter was dead, they quickly made sure that they didn't want anything to do with that. The two of them obviously feared the Dark Lord's rage just like Bellatrix did. Rodolphus realised that he'd have to grow accustomed to the thought that he'd face an unpleasant night as well. It wouldn't be the first time.

He treated his comrades' wounds quickly; the rest would be done at the Manor. Before they left, he freed Lovegood from the rubble as well. The man was crying in shock. "Will my Luna be freed now?" he asked shaken by sobs.

"I'm sure she will be," Rodolphus said. There was no need to keep the girl captive anymore. "The ultimate decision lies with the Dark Lord though."

Doing side-along-apparition with two injured Death Eaters, two captives and a dead body wasn't easy but Bellatrix had at least calmed down enough to make it possible. They made it to Malfoy Manor where Rodolphus treated the wounds of Travers and Selwyn. "Go and lie down," he told them. He would allow the Dark Lord to see the truth about the events in his mind and let him handle it how he saw fit.

Outside, a bunch of people had assembled. Draco Malfoy looked very sick when he saw the mangled body of his former fellow student. "It might not look that way but it has been quick," Rodolphus told him and his mother Narcissa who looked rather sick as well. Lucius meanwhile started fretting about the Dark Lord's reaction as well.

Without further ado, Rodolphus pressed the Dark Mark on his arm. Moments later, the Dark Lord arrived. Bellatrix threw herself at his feet right away. "Master, I'm so sorry, so sorry!" she shrieked. "I didn't mean to kill him."

Voldemort ignored her completely and went to examine Potter's body. Bellatrix remained on the ground, sobbing. The Malfoys huddled closely together.

"It is him," the Dark Lord declared. "It is Harry Potter. You have killed Harry Potter."

Bellatrix started to apologise once more.

"Be quiet, Bella," Voldemort said but this was an order she had great trouble obeying. "You knew that Harry Potter was to be killed by me in person, didn't you?"

"Yes Master, we did," Rodolphus said.

"And why, pray tell me did you not obey my command?"

Rodolphus tried his luck with an explanation. "Bellatrix didn't use the Killing curse as you can see. She had just been hit with the Cruciatus curse and put too much magic in. It was an accident."

Bellatrix probably didn't even hear what her husband said; she was completely fixated on her Master.

"You know that this deserves punishment?" the Dark Lord asked.

"Yes, Master," Rodolphus said calmly while Bellatrix said the same words among sobs. "Master, I'm so sorry, so sorry."

"You've told me the truth, Rodolphus. Good," the Dark Lord said. "Harry Potter is dead and will no longer hinder my plans, yes. Your insubordination however deserves to be punished. I feel merciful now that the boy is gone though. I will give you a chance. A chance to get around your punishment If and only if you fulfil a rather difficult task to my satisfaction."

"Anything Master, anything," Bellatrix said.

"We're happy to do whatever you wish, Master," Rodolphus said.

"Very well. The task I have in mind is difficult, very, very difficult. You know who's causing the Carrows all this trouble, don't you?"

"Neville Longbottom, isn't it?" Rodolphus asked. He had always followed the Carrows' reports with interest. Snape's information about this boy and the things the Carrows were telling them seemed to be polar opposites. This had attracted his interest.

"You're quite right." A smile was curling the Dark Lord's mouth. "Neville Longbottom. It would be easy to kill him of course, but who wants to do things the easy way? He's from an old and noble family."

Rodolphus snorted at this. Had even the Dark Lord joined the Longbottom admirers now? Voldemort chuckled softly at this reaction. "I do not want to lose the son of such a family. Our new world or pure-bloods requires as many of them as we can possibly keep alive now. I want you to make him stop fighting us. I want him to admit defeat and ask me for mercy and help built our new world now. You are to make sure of that if you want to go without punishment."

"Yes, Master," Rodolphus said.

At the moment, he wasn't sure how he was going to achieve this but there would surely be a way. He only needed some time to think. Bellatrix said the same but the look on her face made it quite clear that she didn't believe this would be possible.

"Very well," the Dark Lord said. "Lucius. You've been standing there so uselessly? Would you mind taking a few pictures of Potter's body? We do want the public to know what has happened."

Lucius didn't look very keen on being reduced to the position of photographer but he obeyed all the same of course. Narcissa and Draco still looked very pale, clinging to each other.

When the pictures had been taken, the Dark Lord raised his wand. "I want to make sure that there's no chance for Potter whatsoever to return to this world, no matter what kind of magic might be performed. His body needs to be destroyed. Incendio!"

Flames started to devour the boy's corpse, spreading the smell of burned flesh. The Dark Lord's spell was powerful enough to reduce even the bones to ashes.

"Fertilizer for your lawn, Narcissa," the Dark Lord said. Bellatrix laughed raucously.

Narcissa fainted and was caught in the arms of her husband.


	2. Chapter 1 Wireless and Apple Seed

**AN: **Now the first real chapter of the story. It's set a day later. In future, I'll be probably updating once or maybe sometimes twice a week as wel.

**Wireless and Apple Seed  
**

After about two hours spent lying awake, Neville gave up. He wasn't going to sleep anymore. Neville had been looking forward to the Christmas holidays but now that they were there, he felt nothing but emptiness and despair.

He was so worried about Luna. Horrible visions of the things that might be happening to her right now forced themselves into his mind again and again. He should have been able to protect her. Neville couldn't help feeling this even though he knew there had been no chance. The students had been forced to travel in different carriages divided by house and he hadn't been able to reach the Ravenclaw carriage when the train stopped. Padma had informed him with her coin afterwards.

In Hogwarts, he had been busy with the DA and Luna had still been free. As terrible as it had been, he had enough to keep himself from thinking about it all too much. There hadn't been time to be afraid. At home in the calm Longbottom house, he had nothing like this. He was faced with the truth that this year would very likely be his last. Neville would never agree to perform the Cruciatus curse on a person if they wanted them to do this for their exam... He needed to cause the Death Eaters as much trouble as possible until then. Maybe his example would inspire others to continue resisting.

Celebrating Christmas with his family hadn't helped either. Great uncle Harfang and great aunt Callidora had come for the first time in years. Normally, the oldest Longbottoms politely declined Augusta's invitation. Neither she nor Neville were very sad about this. As a child, Neville had found great aunt Callidora extremely frightening because of certain family resemblances and he didn't feel very comfortable in her presence even now.

Everything had been much frostier than usual Christmas dinner had ended with an argument between those two and the rest of Neville's relatives. Harfang and most of all Callidora were upset because the Longbottoms didn't have a traditional pure-blood midwinter celebration. They had spent the rest of the evening debating the pros and cons of holding such a celebration. Neville hadn't been able to grasp this at all. Pure-blood midwinter celebrations? Seriously, didn't they have anything else to worry about?

Great aunt Enid hadn't taken part in this. Instead, she had fretted over Neville's injuries and insisted on healing them. It had taken Neville lots of effort to explain to her that the Carrows didn't accept this and would give him worse injuries if he let Madam Pomfrey or anyone else heal them. They had to wait for them to heal the Muggle way so they knew what it was like to live like a Muggle and appreciate why wizards were superior or that was how Alecto explained it. Enid's fussing hadn't made Neville feel any better about the situation of course.

As if this hadn't been enough, great aunt Callidora had felt the need to rebuke him because he hadn't visited his parents for a year now. "Aren't you interested in making sure that they're alright at all? Don't you think it's your duty as a son? Or as a mother, Augusta?"

To his grandmother's dismay, Neville had left the living-room after this and not returned for the rest of the evening.

He had his reasons not to visit Saint Mungo's of course. Neville didn't want the Death Eaters to know that he still cared about his parents. If they knew, they might use them against him like they were using Luna against her father. He absolutely didn't want to be responsible for their mistreatment.

A part of Neville that he usually managed to silence had to admit that this wasn't the only reason. He was also afraid of what he might see. Everything had gone so much worse, why would Saint Mungo's be different? There was no chance to change anything. At least not until he had finished school. Attending Hogwarts had become mandatory now. His elderly relatives weren't able to care for Neville's parents on their own. They had to stay at Saint Mungo's no matter what and Neville felt guilty because of it but he didn't want to admit any of this to his great aunt.

Neville walked downstairs so he could help the House Elf Sandy make breakfast. He wondered what Hermione would say if she knew that his family had a House Elf. She'd probably be shocked. Neville sighed deeply. No one knew where Hermione was. It was quite possible that he'd never see her again.

"Good morning, Neville."

Neville flinched. His great aunt was sitting on the couch, reading a copy of the Daily Prophet. She put it away as Neville walked into the room.

"Good morning."

"Didn't sleep well?" she asked.

Neville shook his head. He kept himself from saying "thanks to you." He had learned to stand up to teachers now; no matter what they did to him for punishment but his relatives were a different matter even if it was great aunt Callidora.

"I didn't mean to upset you," the elderly witch said. "I only wanted to shake you awake if you want me to put it that way."

Neville gave her a questioning look.

"The papers never write anything about Saint Mungo's," Callidora said. "I really do think you should go there in person and make sure that everything's alright. There are always alternatives if not. Many people like to think so but the UK isn't the only country with witches and wizards on earth."

She'd know this of course, Neville thought. His great aunt had fought in Europe during the Grindelwald wars together with her husband and brother-in-law Algie. He hadn't thought about others countries at all. Running away seemed cowardly to him, but for his parents it might be an option.

"Family should always come first you know," Callidora said. "A son is responsible for his parents first and then for being a hero."

Neville didn't answer. His great aunt had been a Slytherin while at Hogwarts. It wasn't surprising that she would say something like that. Slytherins only cared about people close to them if they cared about anyone at all.

"I'm not going because I want to keep them safe too," Neville said. "I don't want the Death Eaters to know that I still care about them."

"But they're going to know this anyway," Callidora said softly. "Many people like to forget this but Death Eaters are human too. They have parents, children, spouses and friends as well."

"I'm not sure," Neville said. Did the Carrows care about each other? Well, they punished students who had insulted the other more severely. Could you call this caring for each other? Neville didn't think so. "Professor Dumbledore always said that You-Know-Who and his followers don't understand about love and friendship. He said that's the greatest difference between us."

"This is probably true about You-Know-Who himself," Callidora said. "At least by now. I don't know if it has always been that way. It's not true for all of them though. Taking this for granted could be dangerous."

Neville started to wonder which side Callidora was really on. It wasn't the first time. Algie tended to call her a "dark friend" when she wasn't nearby. As a Black, she probably couldn't be anything else. She considered the idea that Muggle-borns had stolen magic as ridiculous as everyone else. Her reasons to do so were a bit different than those of the others though. She didn't believe that Muggles without magical talent were capable of doing this.

Great aunt Callidora had been born a Black and so had the Death Eater Neville hated more than anyone else. "Did you know Bellatrix Lestrange as a child?"

Callidora looked at him slightly warily now. She hesitated for a moment before answering. "Yes, I did."

"And you want to tell me she was a normal child?" Neville asked disbelievingly.

"What is normal? She was a vivacious girl, very quick to say openly how she felt and talk back or cry or shout if she felt like it. You know that this isn't the kind of behaviour one wants to see in a pure-blood child."

"Yes," Neville said, not sure where this was going. His grandmother had always told him to keep quiet in the company of elders, not to speak too loudly and not to cry. At the latter, he had failed often when younger and still sometimes did when subjected to the Cruciatus curse by the Carrows.

"Druella's ways of dealing with this behaviour from her daughter were rough and they didn't yield the desired results. She turned more and more aggressive towards others while never learning to stay in self-control under strain."

Knowing this about Bellatrix Lestrange could be quite useful, Neville thought. He had heard from Harry, Ron and Hermione that Dumbledore had taught him much about Voldemort's childhood and youth so he could understand his enemy better.

"You have to believe me. Ever since the trial there's no day where I'm not asking myself if I couldn't have done something, if I couldn't have saved her. I should have been able to teach her that a Black does never crawl and kneel for anyone at least."

Neville was surprised about the fervour in her voice. "Family should always come first." Neville would never have believed it possible that anyone in his family felt something like sympathy for Bellatrix Lestrange. Dark friend indeed. He wasn't that surprised though. Great aunt Callidora always held strange views.

"On a different note, Neville. If you're ever interested in actually understanding some of the things the Carrows are trying to teach, simply send me an owl," Callidora said. "I have plenty of books on the Dark Arts and I think you can be entrusted with them."

"Ehm, thank you," Neville said. This confirmed his thoughts about this great aunt. "I don't think there will be any need though. I don't want to learn dark magic. I'm not becoming one of them."

"Understanding their magic and becoming of them is not the same thing," Callidora said. "The Dark Arts are only dangerous to the weak. The strong can control them rather than being controlled by them and you are not weak. Not anymore."

Neville remained silent. He didn't know what he was supposed to say about that. He wasn't interested in dark magic but was quite glad about his great aunt's praise. He didn't believe that the Dark Arts could be controlled either. His grandmother and great uncle Algie had told him something different.

The arrival of Neville's other relatives spared him the answer. Sandy had made breakfast on her own after all and it tasted as good as always. This time, they managed not to argue. While eating his buttered toast with marmalade, Neville made a decision.

"I will go to Saint Mungo's today," he told great aunt Callidora when they said goodbye.

She gave him a slight smile. "Good. I think it's the right thing to do. Good luck."

At first glance, the reception area of Saint Mungo's looked as it always did. Visitors and patients with various complaints were standing in line or tried to get one of the green-clad Healers to talk to them. The only visible difference were the posters in Ministry colours that had appeared here as well. Neville approached them to see if it was something problematic. To his relief, there were only the usual health tips and announcements he knew from his earlier visits to Saint Mungo's. The Ministry design was the only thing that had changed. Something else was different as well though. The wanted poster didn't show the faces of Bellatrix Lestrange and other Death Eaters anymore. Instead, Harry and Hermione looked down upon Neville. He didn't know of any crimes the others had committed either.

A wizarding wireless was running in the corner. They were airing an interview with the lead singer of the group "The Serpent Whisperers" who wanted to donate the money they got for their new song "Gunhilda" to Saint Mungo's. While Neville was listening, the moderator asked about a "Beltane Night Charity Concert."

"I can't say too much about this yet," the singer said giggling slightly. "The details are still confidential but yes, there is something great being planned. At the moment, we're trying to make it possible that Hogwarts students can come as well. So far, Professor Snape hasn't been very cooperative but we're working on this."

The people in the radio as well as many listeners laughed at this. Neville thought that they didn't grasp what was going on at all.

He walked upstairs. He knew the way; there was no need to join the queue. The old Healers on the portraits made their usual comments when Neville walked past them. As always, one of them told him that he suffered from magical memory damage and needed to be subjected to the Cruciatus curse as a remedy. His grandmother had been shocked when this had happened for the first time, but by now, Neville was used to it. He still wondered if things had really been done this way at Saint Mungo's in the past or if the old Healers only wanted to frighten the people walking past them and had a good laugh afterwards.

He reached the corridor signposted Spelldamage and his legs carried him to the Janus Thickey-Ward almost on their own. He cast the Alohomora-spells and walked into the ward.

"Hello Neville. I still remember your name great isn't it? Do you want my autograph?" A beaming Gilderoy Lockhart walked towards him.

"Good morning Mr Lockhart," Neville said. He knew by now that calling him "Professor" would only confuse Lockhart.

Without waiting for a reply, Lockhart began to write his name on a piece of parchment Neville looked around the ward. He saw Agnes, the woman who had been partly turned into a dog and some of the other patients who had always been here as well as quite a few new people. The two end beds were now occupied by a wizard whose skin looked like that of a frog and a witch who had sprouted tentacles that were winding themselves around her bed. There was no trace of his parents anywhere.

Neville's hands were shaking so badly, he almost dropped the autograph card handed to him by Lockhart. His parents weren't there. They weren't there.

Panic was rising in Neville's chest mixing with guilt. He should have checked on them earlier, he should have come before that. Neville slowly walked through the room and looked at every patient in there. There was no doubt. His parents weren't here. Patients sometimes walked off but there was no unoccupied bed either.

Neville quickly left the ward; he didn't want the patients to see him in this agitated state. Lockhart called after him but Neville ignored him. He closed the door again and let himself fall down on one of the benches on the corridor.

Neville's breathing was very shallow. Thoughts were hurrying through his mind without order or connection. Had the Death Eaters simply decided to dispose of them quietly? Was there something he could have done? Was there something he should have done? Why hadn't he come earlier?

"Ah, good morning Neville. It's been quite a while," a female voice said.

Neville looked up. It was Hestia Jones, one of the Healers of the department.

"Oh boy, you're so pale. What's wrong?" Hestia.

"What's wrong? What's wrong? My parents aren't here anymore."

Not that this even was the only thing that was wrong. She had to know this, hadn't she? Why had Hestia not done anything about that? She had been in the Order of the Phoenix but well, McGonagall and Flitwick didn't do anything either. They simply watched as their students were tortured.

"Calm down, Neville. You're parents have merely been moved to another ward," Hestia said kindly. "They're in Ward 50 now, the Belvina Burke-Ward.

"Moved to another ward?" Neville asked. Relief slowly washed away his worry but there was some of it left. "Why?" His parents had been in the Janus Thickey ward ever since he could remember. "Has their condition gone worse?" The Belvina Burke-Ward was for patients who required constant surveillance.

"There's no need to worry," Hestia assured him. "We've been asked to do this by, well by the _Ministry_."

Neville didn't fail to notice the Healer's hesitation. "You can tell me "by the Death Eaters", I know what's going on," he said more harshly than he had wanted to. This wasn't Hestia's fault after all. "Why are they interested in moving people from one ward to the other for no reason?"

Was this their way of showing their power here?

"It's merely an organisational thing," Hestia said. "Things have been quite chaotic in here in autumn because there are so many casualties of the war and they didn't let the Muggle-borns work here anymore. There were too many people in the Janus Thickey Ward and not enough Healers for it while Ward 50 only had two patients but Healers watching 24 hour a day. That's why all the Cruciatus curse patients have been moved there."

"All the Cruciatus curse patients? You mean there are more now?" Neville asked. So far, his parents had been the only people suffering from such severe exposure to this curse.

"Does this really surprise you?" Hestia asked furrowing her brow. "Yes, there are more and constant surveillance is really required in the early stages. Try to think positive. This way, we can let your parents do more on their own because there's always someone watching. I really have to get going now though. I have duty in this ward at the moment and I don't want to keep my trainee there alone for too long."

"Of course," Neville said. "Thank you for telling me."

He followed the Healer to the last ward of the corridor. Hestia opened the door. The large room was divided into various niches. Each one of them contained a bed, a chair and a bedside table. There were curtains that could be drawn around them. The first niche beside the door was occupied by a pale young woman. She was busy drawing black stripes on a piece of paper; her hand was shaking rather badly. When Neville glanced at her for the second time, he recognised her. She had been a Slytherin seventh-year on Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad during Neville's fifth year. Not the typical Death Eater victim at all.

"What is she doing here?"

Hestia gave Neville a very serious look. "She as well as Mr Higgs and Mr Mortlake here have been brought here early this summer. You might have trouble believing me but it has been the Ministry that has done this to them. Some people seem to have lost their nerve in the last month of the old Ministry. They were suspected Death Eaters."

After Umbridge, Neville didn't think this was so unbelievable. Scrimgeour had been desperate to capture Death Eaters, Harry had often complained about this. He couldn't believe that Aurors had done this though. It must have been Umbridge or someone like her.

Something else worried him. "They're Death Eaters. Is it safe to keep them here with everyone else?"

"Their condition is similar to that of your parents," Hestia said. "They don't remember who they are or what they've been fighting for. And even if they did, we can watch all the patients from the Healer's corner."

Neville hoped that this was true. He kept looking around for his parents. There were four other new Cruciatus curse patients on the other side of the ward. One of them looked slightly familiar to Neville. He took a closer look. The man was extremely pale and lay in his bed unmoving but Neville still recognised Mr Fortescue, the former owner of the Diagon Alley Ice-cream Parlour.

"It's Mr Fortescue," Neville said. "So he's still alive."

"Yes, but we don't know for how long," Hestia said with a sigh. "He's our worst case here. I have no idea what they wanted of him. He owns an Ice-cream Parlour for Merlin's sake. Shall I show you were your parents are? They've chosen to close the curtains."

So his parents didn't want to be watched by Death Eaters, Neville thought. He couldn't blame them. Hestia slowly drew the curtains open, Neville watched with a heavy feeling in his stomach.

His parents shared a slightly larger niche. Neville's mother was busy drawing something with wax crayons on a white sheet of paper. Her bed was surrounded by drawings and small pieces of paper. The photographs and Frank's small tapestry were there as well.

"I'm sorry about the mess," Hestia whispered.

"No problem," Neville answered. "I can tidy it up."

Neville's father sat on his bed eating an apple from the fruit bowl on the bedside table between them. Neville was surprised to see this. His father normally never ate by himself, only when the Healers were feeding him.

Neville walked over to his parents' beds. "Hi Mum, hi Dad," he said. They didn't seem to notice he was there, Neville hadn't expected anything else.

He saw a plant on their table and went to check it right away. When he looked more closely he realised that it was Goldberry Weed. The plant that grew abundantly in most magical gardens was used in potions against the Cruciatus curse and it wasn't poisonous. The yellow berries didn't taste good but weren't dangerous either.

"The pots and bowls are all charmed so they won't break or fall down of course," Hestia assured Neville. In the past, it hadn't occurred to him to question the Healer's diligence but since a patient in his parents' ward had been killed by a plant which had been brought in under the eyes of a Healer, he wasn't so trusting anymore.

Neville thanked Hestia. He didn't want to keep her off her work any longer. She walked towards the end of the ward and released her trainee Healer, a young man called Summerby from watching the patients.

Neville sat down by his mother's side and started picking the pieces of paper and parchment up, telling his mother what he was doing in a clear voice while at it. She had actually tried to write onto the smaller pieces of parchment. Most of the time, the letters were so blurry that Neville couldn't decipher anything. There were a few messages he could read though. Neville was staggered when he saw that most of them said something like "help" or "help me." He gave his mother a concerned look.

"Why do you ask for help?" he wanted to know but of course, she wasn't able to answer. She only looked at him blankly. Was she afraid of something? Was there something wrong? Or did she simply want the Healers to help her with her illness which they weren't able to do? He didn't know.

There was one other message he could decipher but it didn't make any sense at all. "Visit blue flowers potion no." Neville looked around. There were no blue flowers anywhere but he was going to ask Hestia if there had been a visitor who had brought her blue flowers.

His mother's "paintings" looked like the ones made by very small children. Neville picked one of them up. Everything was black, grey and green, Death Eater and Slytherin colours, Neville thought. At first glance, he almost believed to see a Dark Mark but when he looked again, he realised that it wasn't there. Only a swirl of colours but the picture had something sinister to it.

Neville flinched when he felt someone touch his hand. His mother had approached him from behind. Now she was trying to take the picture away from him. Neville let her. He didn't want to trouble her. If she wanted to keep it, she should.

When she had the dark picture, she slowly walked to the other side of her bed and picked another picture up. Holding it in her hand, she returned to Neville and gave it to him.

Neville took the picture. "Thank you, Mum," he said the same way he had done when she had given him the bubblegum wrappers in the past.

He looked at the sheet of paper. It was very different from the one he had held before. This picture was full of bright colours, green and orange and blue and yellow. With a lot of imagination, you might recognise carrots with green leaves, blue flowers and the sun.

"That's very nice Mum," he said. "Is this a garden?"

If Neville wasn't imagining things he wished to see, this meant that she was able to remember something from her past. He looked at the second picture again which lay abandoned on the floor now. Was it another memory? An attempt to show the frightening things she saw in her mind to others? She had chosen to give the nice picture to Neville and not the other one. Did that mean she knew which one was which and that she did want to give Neville something nice? It could be, maybe it was just coincidence, he didn't know.

A man's screaming broke the quiet. Neville looked for the source of the noise and so did his mother. Then she returned to her bed and lay down, huddled together as if she tried to make herself invisible. "Don't be scared Mum, no one's going to hurt you," Neville told her. "It's only someone else who's ill as well."

His calming tone did seem to have an effect on her. She looked less scared even though she couldn't understand what he said.

Meanwhile, Hestia approached the bed of Mr Fortescue and cast a wandless spell. It seemed to make his pain subside. He stopped screaming and lay still once more. Neville remembered that the patients had received potions in such situations in the past, not spells. Had they changed this?

Neville's mother left her bed once more and fetched two pears from the fruit bowl. She bent down over Neville who still sat on the floor collecting the pieces of paper and handed him one of the pear before she began eating her own.

"Thank you," Neville said again and bit into the fruit. She hoped they wouldn't mind if he ate a fruit meant for the patients but his mother wanted him to and he couldn't explain this problem to her. His mother almost looked as if she were smiling. The pear was sweet and juicy.

It was the first visit where she had ever given Neville something that wasn't considered waste by others but if he was honest, she never had had anything to give in the past. No one really knew where she even got the gum wrappers from; the patients weren't given chewing gum because it was much too dangerous. They might swallow it and suffocate.

Neville's father had finished eating his apple now. He began to pick the core apart. At least he wasn't eating it, Neville thought even though it probably wouldn't have been dangerous if he had. There was a look of concentration on his face while he was busy with the apple core. Small pieces of apple were falling down around him. Neville started picking them up into a paper handkerchief so he could throw them away. To his father, what he was doing seemed very important even though other people couldn't understand why. When he had finally finished, he approached Neville, his hand outstretched. So far, Neville had only seen this gesture from his mother.

He took what his father held in his slightly sticky hand and thought it was just some piece of the apple core. When he looked he noticed that it was the apple's seeds. "Thank you Dad. Why are you giving me this? Do you want me to plant an apple tree?"

Neville's father didn't answer of course. Maybe he did want him to do this. The apple was an important tree for the Longbottoms. Did his father still remember this? He couldn't could he? Would he really remember something like that but not his own son and wife? Neville put the apple seeds into his pocket. Maybe he would plant a tree so that something was left behind when he was gone which would likely happen soon.

Neville sat down on the chair and simply watched his parents for a while. His mother was busying herself with the crayons once more when she had eaten her pear while Frank didn't seem to be interested in this. He observed the rest of the ward now, almost as if he still was an Auror standing guard but he probably couldn't notice what was going on of course.

Almost everyone Neville talked to acted as if his parents were as good as dead, only empty shells of their former selves. Seeing what he had seen today made Neville doubt that this was true. They were still alive and somewhere, deep inside them part of them was left. If only he understood better what his mother tried to tell him with her cryptic pictures and words.

It was very likely that he would never get a chance to find out though. Neville swallowed. If only he had found out about this earlier. At least, he knew now that his parents didn't seem to mind having been moved to a new ward and seemed to be relatively well and in peace. More so than many other people these days actually. Neville hoped it would remain that way when he was gone. It was good that Hestia was in charge of them now. She was one of the best Healers in the department and wouldn't make mistakes of the kind Miriam Strout had made.

Neville would have liked to stay longer; there was something peaceful about this place today. He knew that he had to go though. The longer he lingered the greater the danger that someone might see him. He said goodbye to his parents and asked Hestia about the blue flowers. As far as she knew, his parents hadn't had any visitors and they had never been given blue flowers. It was probably wrong to take these things so literally, Neville thought on his way to the door. The young Death Eater Miss Travers was sniffing her Goldberry Weed. Neville walked past her quickly and left the ward.

When he reached the reception area, he noticed a large crowd of people in front of the wireless. Many of them looked pale and shaken. A terrible feeling of foreboding rose in Neville. Something bad had happened, something really bad.

"You have already heard it, now it is confirmed," the news reporter said. "The terrorist leader Harry Potter, also known as "Undesirable No 1" is dead."

The words barely reached Neville's ears. This couldn't be true. It simply couldn't be true. A lie created by Voldemort, that's what this had to be. He wanted to weaken their morals.

"Harry Potter and his companions Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were cornered by Ministry officials in the late hours of yesterday afternoon. They attempted to resist capture; Potter resorted to the Cruciatus curse. He was killed in the struggle; his two companions have been arrested and face trial."

Neville couldn't stay silent when he heard this. "Lies! This is a bunch of lies!" he shouted. "Harry Potter would never use such a spell. They're only trying to discredit him."

Many heads turned into his direction. People started whispering. No one supported him but no one tried to silence him either. They needed to understand that the WWN was telling nothing but lies. He kept repeating it until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Would you like to have a Calming Draught?" a Healer with horn-rimmed glasses asked.

"I don't need a Calming Draught! I just want to tell the truth!"

"I think it's better if you leave."

The Healer steered Neville towards the door, he obeyed numbly and cast one last look at the crowd. They couldn't believe this, could they? It didn't occur to him for a moment that the news reporter could be telling the truth.


	3. Chapter 2 Facing the Truth

**Facing the Truth**

Next morning, the news about Harry's death made the front page of the Daily Prophet. "Undesirable No 1 dead." The article repeated the exact story Neville had heard on the wireless at Saint Mungo's. Neville didn't find it anymore believable now. Harry would never use the Cruciatus curse. If he was really dead, Neville simply couldn't believe it, he must have died some other way. They didn't mention who the "Ministry officials" trying to "arrest" him had been either. Didn't really serve the article's credibility.

There were some pictures though. They showed Harry lying motionless on the ground and drenched in blood. The photographs looked rather gruesome but Neville was sure that they had to be fake. Voldemort used the Killing curse and that one didn't leave visible injuries, it simply made the heart stop. Moody or rather Crouch junior had told them that back in their fourth year. He had been a Death Eater in disguise but this didn't make Neville doubt the information. Death Eaters would be familiar with this kind of thing. They were quick to cast this curse just like their master. There was no need for this amount of blood. They had probably added it to the picture so it would look more drastic. It was all posed.

To his dismay, Neville's grandmother wasn't so certain. "It could be a manoeuvre to weaken the public's morals of course," she said. "I'm not really sure if they would do that though. If people believe Harry's dead, they will stop looking for him. This would make catching him much more difficult."

"They must have realised that the people won't help them catch Harry," Neville said. "The Death Eaters and their helpers know the truth. They hope that everyone will give up if they think Harry's gone."

Augusta Longbottom sighed deeply. "Let's hope your right. Too bad we don't have an independent source of information."

"But we have, Potterwatch," Neville said.

His grandmother wrinkled her nose. She believed that the moderators at Potterwatch weren't dealing with the situation seriously enough. Neville disagreed. He found their little jokes funny. People really needed something to laugh in between the bad news during these terrible times.

"Well, we can try if we get the station in," she conceded.

The day was spent with trying to receive Potterwatch and in Neville's case, sending messages via the DA coins. The others didn't believe it either. Some people, including Hannah Abbott and Michael Corner voiced some doubts though. They seemed to wonder about the same things Neville grandmother was asking herself.

Ginny didn't write any messages until the early hours of the afternoon. When she finally did, Neville was shocked. "_They're lying - I'm going to look for him - Ginny."_

_No Ginny, bad idea - Neville."_

The message was written quickly and without second thought. Of course, Ginny had been Harry's girlfriend and cared for him more than anyone else but she couldn't do that. They'd kill her right away if she was caught away from Hogwarts. Or, if Harry was truly still alive, they'd abduct her to force Harry into obedience. Neville was surprised that they hadn't done this right away. It had worked with Luna. Maybe they had feared the Gryffindors would put up a better fight.

The other DA members all sent similar messages in Ginny's direction. They had not yet discovered a way to contact only one person. The Protean Charm from Hermione probably wouldn't make this possible.

Hermione, it couldn't be that she had truly been captured by the Death Eaters, along with Ron, could it? It couldn't be that Harry was truly dead.

Ginny didn't send an answer. Neville wasn't sure what that meant. Had she left already? A horrible thought struck Neville. Maybe it was true. Harry could be dead and Ron, Hermione and Luna were all captured by the Death Eaters while Ginny ran around somewhere where she wasn't allowed to be. If this was true, he'd be the last and only one left of the six who had gone to the Ministry towards the end of his fifth year. He pushed this thought quickly to the back of his mind. Ginny only needed some time to think and the news reports were lying. Luna would survive and come out alright, Neville was sure she would.

Wasn't he deluding himself? He knew that prisoners would be tortured and he knew what it did to a person.

"Neville, come down," his grandmother called. "I think I got this radio station in."

Neville quickly put his DA coin away and ran downstairs. He was surprised and slightly worried because his Gran had begun to search for Potterwatch on her own. He knew she didn't like the radio station too much. If she had looked for it herself, she surely feared that the reports might be true as well. The dread about the things he was going to hear was even worse now.

"Password was "Marlene," Augusta Longbottom told him quietly as he sat down in front of the wireless. "For Marlene McKinnon. A fine woman she was, a very fine woman." She sighed deeply. "A close friend of your mother's."

His grandmother obviously found it touching that the moderators of the radio station had chosen to honour this woman Neville had only seen on old photographs. Maybe her opinion about Potterwatch was changing now.

"Good evening, we're going to interrupt the program now for a moment so you can make sure that you're in a safe location."

Neville's feeling of dread increased. Not because of the words but because of the way Lee Jordan's voice sounded. He always tried to be cheerful, no matter how bad the things he reported were. If this had changed, he must believe that the news about Harry's death might be true.

"Here we are again. Our usual contributers Royal and Romulus have joined us again this evening and so has for the first time Vesta with news from Saint Mungo's. But before we hear about the state of our hospital, we have to discuss recent events. I'm sure you're all wondering if the news the government has begun to spread are true."

Neville had never heard Lee's voice sound so grave. He swallowed hard. His grandmother turned the radio louder than Neville had ever heard it before in this house. He didn't say anything. The many wards on the house would prevent any Death Eaters from overhearing.

Kingsley Shacklebolt spoke next. "I wish from the bottom of my heart that I could tell you something different but it seems indeed to be the truth as confirmed by a reliable witness. Harry Potter has been murdered by Death Eaters on December the 27th."

Neville's grandmother clapped her hand in front of her mouth; sadness and despair were welling up in Neville. Harry dead, his classmate Harry dead! He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes. Every attempt to stop them was futile. Neville expected a reprimand from his grandmother but it didn't come.

Kingsley continued talking about the repercussions of Harry's death, the cowardly killing and the disgusting way the Death Eaters had been dealing with it. Neville barely heard any of it. Harry was dead. He would never talk to Neville again, never teach spells to the DA again, never sit on a broom again, never see Ginny again. Ginny would never see him again and she had already been missing him so much.

Neville cried openly when he thought about her. She had always been so confident that Harry would return. She had been the one who had strengthened the DA's hope in Harry while Luna had made them see things from a different perspective and Neville tried to give them the courage to endure the endless suffering inflicted upon them. His touch seemed to lessen the pain left by the Cruciatus curse, probably only because they believed it did.

Ginny had been so sure that Harry would come back but now they all knew that this wasn't going to happen. Harry wouldn't come back. He would never come back. He wouldn't return and lead them into battle. The prophecy was fulfilled; Voldemort had been able to dispose of the Chosen One.

When Lee Jordan mentioned the word "Saint Mungo's", Neville began to listen once more. He felt almost ashamed because he was interested in this now when a classmate of his had died but he couldn't help it. Hestia had told him so little at the hospital. Maybe they would learn more now.

He was startled when he heard her voice. "Thank you. River," she said quietly. "I understand that most of you probably don't feel very receptive to anything else after the news you've just heard. The coverage of Saint Mungo's in the official press is very sparse however and I think that you deserve to know what's really happening here because you or your relatives might always need the help of Healers, especially in times like these."

"Of course, Vesta," Lee said. "Life has to go on for the rest of us even though..."

He stopped mid-sentence. Neville wasn't surprised. He had probably been about to say that he didn't know how life was supposed to go on now that they couldn't hope for Harry Potter to fulfil the prophecy and vanquish Voldemort. No one knew who might stop him now.

At the moment, this still seemed very unreal to Neville. He wasn't able to grasp it yet.

"First of all, I can assure you that everything still goes the regular way. The profound and terrible changes in policy we've had at the Ministry and at Hogwarts haven't happened here. The Death Eaters do not interfere with our work beyond some organisational measures. Supporters and non-supporters of the regime still can be treated the same way as our oath demands. The only change for the worse is the fact that Muggle-borns aren't allowed to work anymore."

It had looked like that to Neville as well during his visit. Something about Hestia's words made him fear that something was wrong after all. If this hadn't been the case, she probably wouldn't have come, would she? It wasn't necessary to face this danger if there was no need to give a warning.

"There are some new regulations which restrict our freedom however," Hestia continued.

"You mean the Health Care Degrees?" Lee asked.

"Yes, exactly. Patient registers need to be passed to the Death Eaters and they want to be informed before someone who has been seriously ill leaves the hospital. Violations of these rules are supposed to be punished. The Death Eaters claim this was due to the need to prevent the spread of contagious diseases but it also applies to patients of the other departments. It's obvious that this is happening so the Death Eaters can control who is admitted and who leaves the hospital."

"Well, given that leaving the hospital isn't an issue in our case, this shouldn't affect us much," Neville's grandmother said brusquely.

Neville however didn't take this so calmly. If the Death Eaters wanted to prevent relatives from treating patients themselves, they must have a reason for that and knowing the Death Eaters, Neville didn't believe it could be a good one. They might not do anything bad yet but Neville was certain it would be only a matter of time.

"We're sure this is the reason," Lee said. "Let's hope that the Death Eaters won't start abusing this privilege."

"It is still advisable to improve your own healing skills and treat diseases and injures yourselves if this is an option," Lupin said. "It is the saver option underthe new situation. Vesta will give you advice on various important healing spells and potions via this program and she will also attempt answer your questions if you have any."

"Yes, certainly," Hestia said. "There's something else I need to tell you about the situation at Saint Mungo's though."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Lupin told her. "I thought you had finished."

"No need to apologise, Romulus. There's something. The most worrisome aspect at the moment is the personnel decision made by You-Know-Who."

"Well, I'd be worried about any Death Eater close to helpless patients," Lee said.

"Wasn't it Thorfinn Rowle? Is he causing trouble?" Kingsley asked.

"Rowle has been removed from this position at the end of last November," Hestia said. "You-Know-Who has given it to Rodolphus Lestrange instead."

There was the sound of breaking china. Neville wasn't sure if his or his grandmother's magic had made one of the expensive plates fall from the wall.

"Rodolphus Lestrange? As in Bellatrix Lestrange's husband?" Neville asked disbelief in his voice. Even Voldemort wouldn't think that being a convicted torturer qualified you for leading Saint Mungo's, did he? If Neville was honest with himself, he had to admit that this was exactly the kind of thing Voldemort would think.

"Must be," his grandmother said. "There's no other Lestrange of this name at the moment."

There were many things Neville was bursting to say but first, he had to hear what else Hestia was telling them. He forced himself to be quiet and listen.

"That means You-Know-Who has grown confident enough to assign official positions to convicted criminals," Kingsley noted.

"Yes, indeed. Even though he tried to do so discretely. So far, Lestrange didn't do or order anything which would have harmed any of our patients and we're trying our best to make sure that it remains that way," Hestia said. "He is the only qualified person for this job in You-Know-Who's circle as far as I know."

"Ehm, what?" Neville thought. Qualified?

"I'm surprised that he's even able to do something like that after 14 years in Azkaban," Lee said.

"Lestrange's own health isn't our concern," Hestia responded. "His criminal record much more so."

"Indeed," Lee said. "Let's hope that things don't go worse at this front and thank you for helping us tell people how to help themselves."

"You're welcome," Hestia said. "I do what I can."

Lee thanked her once more and ended the session the usual way. The next password was supposed to be Sherbet Lemon. "Keep your heads up, no matter how hard it is," Lee said before he ended with the usual: "Keep each other safe: keep faith. Goodnight."

"Mum and Dad can't stay at Saint Mungo's," Neville said before his grandmother even had the chance to turn the radio off. "We need to get them out."

"Neville," his grandmother sighed in exasperation. "It is impossible."

She couldn't be serious, could she? She couldn't intend to leave them, with this, with one of their torturers.

"I won't return to Hogwarts. I can look after them then."

"We've discussed this back in summer. If you don't return to Hogwarts, the Death Eaters will come knocking on our door right away."

"We'd have to go into hiding," Neville said. "I've heard of quiet a few people doing that."

"Hiding? With Frank and Alice in their current condition? You know that they need remedial charms and potions regularly. Do you intend to brew the potions yourself or what?" Her eyes narrowed into small slits.

Neville felt a flush of red creep across his face. He knew that he was atrocious at potions. He'd be extremely likely to poison his parents which wouldn't be any better than Lestrange doing it.

Neville also had to admit to himself that he barely knew anything about the regular treatment his parents needed. He was only there for short visits and the Healers didn't inform him about the details. This wasn't something he could ask Hestia over Potterwatch either.

He remembered something Callidora had told him. "Saint Mungo's isn't the only wizarding hospital in the world. We could move them somewhere else, abroad."

"And how do you want to do this? They aren't allowed to leave without permission, the owls are being watched, how are we supposed to contact a foreign hospital? They aren't required to treat patients from other communities either, especially long-term patients. They might not even take us. And how are we supposed to get there? Magical ways of transport are watched as well; refugees have to leave the Muggle way."

"It's not easy but it could be done, couldn't it?" Neville asked. "Maybe they'd let us leave officially if we explained it well enough."

"You know that you'd have to ask Lestrange personally, do you?" his grandmother asked. "In the unlikely case that he'd allow us to leave without leading us into a trap, there would be no need to remove Frank and Alice from Saint Mungo's in the first place."

"Yes, there would be. They wouldn't have to meet their torturer at the hospital," Neville said angrily. How could his grandmother take this so calmly?

Augusta sighed once more. "Neville, your parents don't even recognise us. Do you really think they notice this? They don't know what's going on at all."

Neville wasn't so certain about that but he didn't intend to start this discussion with his grandmother again. They had already had it rather frequently and the result had always been the same.

At his last meeting, there had been no signs of any frightening encounter his parents might have had with Lestrange. Or was there? He had found so many pieces of paper where his mother had been asking for help. Was this the reason why? Neville couldn't simply leave his mother there if she knew and was frightened.

"There has to be something we can do," he said desperately.

"I'm sorry Neville but it is impossible," his grandmother said more kindly than before. "We cannot take care of your parents ourselves or travel with them a long distance. The loss of memory and perception and the other mental problems aren't the only thing wrong with your parents. Their magic has been so badly damaged that it has turned uncontrollable. There might be sudden violent accidental magic or situations where their own magic turns against them. Something like this could be lethal for themselves or for people around them. Imagine it happening in a Muggle aircraft. Only a trained Healer can deal with this kind of thing appropriately. We cannot ask Hestia to accompany us though. She's needed here."

Neville swallowed. He hadn't known that. Sometimes, the Healers had told them to wait when they had come to visit because his parents had "a bad day" but he had never asked what exactly was wrong with them. He had simply assumed it was because they were sad or frightened and the Healers didn't want him to see them in this state.

"It has been clear that they need professional care. We've informed ourselves about different options as well back then," Augusta continued. "We have no choice. Believe me; I wouldn't leave them there under these conditions if it were any different. The danger for them would be greater if we took them away secretly though."

Neville nodded. He felt grateful in a way because his grandmother had treated him like an adult who deserved detailed information but at the same time, he felt so desperate and helpless. He didn't want to strain his grandmother's patience by crying in front of her. Therefore, he excused himself and went upstairs to his room, closed the door behind him and through himself onto the bed, not forced to worry about good manners anymore.

The next few days passed in a haze of despair. The DA members had received the news about Harry as well but there wasn't much else on the coins. Neville thought they probably felt as hopeless as he did. There wasn't any message from Ginny which increased his worry about her as well. Neville barely noticed that Voldemort finally decided to move into the open and give a victory speech. It was transmitted on the official radio stations but Neville didn't listen. There was no new Potterwatch episode either.

Neville was barely able to get any food down. His grandmother admonished him because he left his plates half-full so often and Neville decided not to turn up for the meals anymore at all. She wasn't glad about that either but she let him.

Part of him wanted to visit his parents each day if possible while the more rational side of him knew that this wouldn't be a good idea at all. If Lestrange saw him at Saint Mungo's, the Death Eaters would certainly use this to enforce his obedience. Thus he stayed away feeling horrible about his decision at the same time.

Once, Neville ended up listening to a song about a witch who had been sent to Azkaban for selling illegal potions from this group "Serpent Whisperers" which had become hugely popular with the new regime, not surprising with their name. Normally, Neville didn't listen to this kind of music but the way the singer described the character's feelings while in Azkaban described very well how Neville was feeling too right now only that there were no Dementors around.

He barely found the strength to leave his bed in the morning and do anything at all. If his plants wouldn't have needed watering, he probably wouldn't have done anything.

After a few more reprimands from his grandmother that a Longbottom didn't act like that, Neville decided that he needed to try and get some distraction. Homework was the first thing that came to his mind. Herbology and Charms were already done which only left Amycus Carrow's Dark Arts class. The Death Eater had assigned them an essay on the Cruciatus curse, unsurprisingly. Neville hadn't intended to hand in anything at all. He still wasn't sure if would do that but after the things his grandmother had told him, he knew now that there was more he needed to find out. He decided to write the essay for himself rather than for Carrow.

Neville's grandmother was slightly surprised when Neville asked her about books with information on the Cruciatus curse but agreed to let him look at everything she had, obviously glad that he seemed to make it out of his stupor once more. There were books, some of them from Auror training or similar but others clearly dark ones that would have been in the Restricted Section at Hogwarts. In addition to that, his grandmother had a few medical articles on the subject. She had obviously collected them through the last years. Neville was slightly startled as he noticed this. His grandmother almost made it clear to him that any hope of improvement was futile. If he was interpreting this correctly, she hadn't given up on this hope completely herself.

Neville's work was hard for two reasons. He didn't understand many of the terms and concepts and the things he learned when he did understood were more horrible than he had imagined.

Magic was flowing through a wizard's body similar to blood even though it didn't need any vessels to carry it. There was the natural pattern of a magical child which grew more new links as soon as magic was used. The main part of this process was normally finished around the age when a young wizard took his OWL-exams but it wasn't the same for everyone and new links could be formed in older people who learned powerful new magic as well.

Feverish diseases as well as severe trauma could disrupt already formed patterns and so could various forms of dark magic. No form of dark magic was as destructive in this aspect as the Cruciatus curse was when used over long periods of time. The curse disrupted the connections and formed knots as well as new, wrong connections. One of the medical articles had diagrams of magic patterns created by diagnostic magic and even Neville could tell that something was seriously wrong there.

The consequences for the patient were dire. Each time he began to remember the torture, the magic would get out of control and cause seizures, the feeling of being exposed to the pain of the curse once more or other uncontrollable reactions of magic. The Healer needed to decide if a counter spell for the Cruciatus curse, potions or other counter spells were in order, a mistake could prove fatal.

This information made Neville feel even more worried. He hadn't known that his parents could be harmed so easily and in ways that no one was able to detect.

The magic damage and other side effects were the reason why the Cruciatus curse had been declared unforgivable, at least according to the author of the book Neville was reading.

Putting this disturbing information into an essay he would be able to hand in to Carrow wasn't easy but Neville did his best. It wasn't supposed to be too emotional or else it would only give Carrow a reason to mock him. He needed to distance himself enough to make this difficult for Carrow. In Herbology and Charms, he had learned how to write this kind of essay, so why not do it here? Carrow probably wouldn't give him good marks but he wasn't bothered about that. He'd end this class with a T anyway. Neville definitely would make a copy for himself by magic though. Otherwise, all effort would be lost.

Neville was distracted from their plight whenever he sat working on the essay but as soon as he put the quill down everything returned. Harry was dead. Neville had never been one of his close friends but Harry had taught him almost everything he knew about defence. If it hadn't been for him, he probably wouldn't have passed his DADA and Charms-OWLs. He owed him so much. Every time Neville thought of one of the moments when Harry had tried to encourage him or help him, Neville started to cry again.

Ron, Hermione and Luna were all captives of the Death Eaters and might endure unbearable pain right now while Neville was sitting here in the safety of his family's house condemned to idleness. He didn't know what was happening to Ginny either.

The entire wizarding world had lost its hope with Harry and Neville had lost the friends he had fought with side by side in recent years.

He was truly alone now.


	4. Chapter 3 Changes

**Changes**

Ginny Weasley seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth without a trace. She didn't contact Neville via the coins and neither any other way. No other DA member had heard of her either. Neville carefully scanned the Daily Prophet each day and listened to the official wireless news as well as the new Potter Watch broadcasts but neither source of news had any information about Ginny's whereabouts. There were no glorious remarks about her capture and no pictures of her in the "wanted" section.

Neville couldn't understand this. If they had captured or killed her, they would congratulate themselves, wouldn't they? But why didn't Ginny contact anyone? There should be enough time to use the coin once in a while, shouldn't there? Part of Neville still hoped that maybe, she was simply sitting at home, so sad that she didn't want any contact with anyone but otherwise safe.

On the Sunday before he had to go back to Hogwarts, Neville decided he needed to contact Ginny's family. Maybe they could tell him something. Maybe she was safe somewhere with other supporters of the light. He knew that the Floo Network was being watched but his friendship with Ginny was no secret. There was nothing suspicious about him inquiring about her. He wouldn't mention any incriminating details of course.

Neville's grandmother had no objections and he threw the powder into the flickering fire. It turned green and Neville felt his head spinning towards the Weasleys' fireplace.

Ginny's mother was busy dusting her already gleaming furniture. The formerly plump and friendly-looking woman had lost much weight; her eyes were red and swollen from crying. Neville swallowed down his own tears as he looked at her.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Weasley," he said politely.

Ginny's mother flinched and looked around hectically.

Neville couldn't blame her. "My name is Neville Longbottom. I'm at Hogwarts with Ron and Ginny."

He still didn't feel comfortable calling himself a friend. At least for Ron he had never truly been.

Mrs Weasley seemed to know the name though. "Hello dear," she said in a husky voice. "What can I do for you?"

Neville took a deep breath. "I wanted to ask if Ginny's coming back to Hogwarts tomorrow. I haven't heard of her since"

He didn't need to finish, Mrs Weasley's sobs were enough to tell Neville she knew what he was talking about.

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you. She ran away after, after they said on Potter Watch that Harry." She broke into open tears. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. Harry was, was almost like a son for me. And now he's gone and so are Ron and Ginny."

"I know, I know," Neville said. He wished he could say something that would comfort her but he did not. His worst fears had come true once again. Ginny wasn't grieving silently at home. She had really left and not even her parents knew where she had gone.

"Ron and Ginny have to be alive," Mrs Weasley said. "We have this clock. Ginny's hand is on Mortal Peril but that doesn't mean anything. It's been that way for all of us since the war has started."

Neville was slightly relieved. At least, Ginny hadn't been killed. Not yet. Of course she'd be in mortal peril if she looked for Harry under the noses of the Death Eaters.

"Ron's hand says that he's in prison," Mrs Weasley added.

"Well, that means that he must be relatively healthy and that they don't intend to kill him," Neville said with relief. He had feared worse. "Otherwise it would be on Mortal Peril."

There was glint of hope in Mrs Weasley's eyes. It made Neville feel a little bit better as well. At least, he had been able to tell her something comforting after all.

"We still hope she might turn up for Hogwarts tomorrow," Mrs Weasley said. "We're all waiting. She knows how much trouble we'll all be in if she doesn't."

"Yes, I hope that too," Neville said. Maybe Ginny did realise that Harry was truly dead and that there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing would be made better if she threw her life away too.

"Thank you for talking to me, Mrs Weasley. Now we can only hope."

"Yes, that's right. You're welcome dear. Don't hesitate to contact us if you need help. Those of us who are left need to stick together."

Neville thanked her again. He was touched by her words. Prior to this, he had never exchanged more than a few polite words with Mrs Weasley. She didn't have to be so nice to him with everything she went through. Maybe not all was lost when some people still felt that way.

After the conversation with Mrs Weasley, Neville packed his things. He didn't feel strong enough to face the Carrows and lead the DA again at all. As long as Harry had been alive, there had been hope. They had all believed that he had a plan, that Dumbledore had told him how to get rid of Voldemort in his sixth-year and that he would be able to fulfil the prophecy and free them of this nightmare. They had believed it was a temporary state.

Now, Neville wasn't sure about this anymore. Most people probably believed that Harry's death had made Voldemort's victory complete. Voldemort himself surely seemed to think so; otherwise he wouldn't have started moving into the open and making public speeches.

They wouldn't be able to do more than set an example. After school, if they survived the end of the year, they would have to cooperate with the regime or go into hiding and try to bring about change from the underground like the Death Eaters had done earlier.

Neville hated the fact that he had never met any members of the famed Order of the Phoenix his parents had been part of. There was no one who really knew how to get on about this kind of thing, no one who could point them the way.

He took a deep breath. Maybe, Snape and the Carrows wouldn't be satisfied with simply torturing them anymore. Maybe they would kill them to set an example. The next curse Crabbe and Goyle were supposed to practice on Neville could very well be the Killing curse. It was quite likely that they'd start rounding up families like the Weasley too, maybe even his own relatives though they had never been active fighters.

Neville knew that he would do everything in his power to fight for what was right and protect the ones that he loved but he didn't know if that would be enough. For a moment, he wondered if Ginny wasn't the one who did the right thing. Maybe she had really met up with the Order, as Harry's girlfriend she might know more about it than the others. Neville wondered if it wouldn't be more sensible to try to find them as well rather than go back to Hogwarts and offer himself on a silver plate.

No, he couldn't simply vanish. If he did, the DA would be without a leader. His tortured classmates would be without someone to tend to their wounds and comfort them. He was needed at Hogwarts and he had to find someone who could take his place when he had finished. There was no reason to hope that everything would be better again till then anymore.

Neville apparated into a cabin of the King's Cross Muggle toilet as wizard arriving at the station this way were asked to do. His grandmother had said goodbye at home, she thought there was no need to accompany an adult to the train and Neville didn't really mind. She had a point. The battle he was walking into was his own.

The weather was cold and damp, rain was falling down. There was no trace of snow, the Muggles' fault as Alecto Carrow was known to claim. They had supposedly blown so much dirt into the air that it warmed the earth up or something. Neville thought this was a lot of rubbish. He almost envied the Muggles who were going on about their business seemingly worried about nothing beside the weather and being late for an appointment. They didn't seem to suspect why so many people had been dying recently.

Neville passed through the barrier and walked among the other magical families on the station. The atmosphere was even more quiet, scared and subdued than it had been back in summer. Parents were hugging their children goodbye with so much fear and worry in their eyes. Neville heard many of them tell the children to be careful, to avoid trouble and to keep themselves save. Many students had probably told them what was happening at Hogwarts during the holiday. People were whispering to each other in very low voices, Neville assumed they were voicing some protest this way. Witches and wizards in the new "Ministry" robes were prowling around, their wands out.

As he walked towards the train and took his place at the end of the line waiting to be admitted into the Gryffindor carriage, Neville wondered what his parents would say to him. Would they tell him to avoid trouble as well or would they encourage him to fight? Neville was almost certain it would be the latter.

He scanned the line and the crowd for familiar red hair but he saw no trace of Ginny or any other Weasley. She didn't seem to have returned even though he would search the carriage as well of course.

He took his blood status card out of his pocket so Amycus Carrow could check it as had become the rule. The Carrows were checking on the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws while Vector and Slughorn did the Huffelpuffs and Slytherins. They were obviously considered less dangerous.

As Neville approached the door, he realised that the person standing there was not Amycus Carrow. It was an aristocratic looking rather beautiful witch with put up black hair wearing blood red robes. The colour didn't resemble Gryffindor red any more than the Healers' robes resembled Slytherin green.

The witch beckoned more and more people inside and Neville heard her speak. It was then that he realised who she was. Shock mixed with shame because he hadn't recognised her right away. It was no other than Bellatrix Lestrange. She barely resembled the deranged escapee with matted hair and a gaunt face anymore but Neville still thought he should have recognised her no matter what she looked like.

His hand reached almost automatically for his wand. How dare she come here and check the students, she who should be in Azkaban for life? He needed to fight her, try to get revenge for his parents. Mrs Lestrange sent Demelza Robins and Jimmy Peakes into the train. There was something very unreal about this scene. For a moment, Neville wondered if he was still asleep and needed to get up so he'd catch the train in time.

No, it was real and he needed to prepare for the fight. Neville caught sight of one of the other Death Eaters eying him suspiciously, almost as if he guessed what Neville was thinking. Would it really be sensible to fight her right now? Neville knew that he wouldn't get very far. He might even be captured or killed before he was able to harm her in any way. He knew that he still hadn't gained the fighting knowledge necessary to beat a witch of her skill. Even if he did it and escaped, every other rebellious student would be forced to pay the price. This wasn't worth it. Injuring or even killing Mrs Lestrange wouldn't make his parents healthy again. He needed time to think. A better plan.

The nervous looking first-years standing in front of Neville passed Mrs Lestrange who checked their blood status cards and ticked their names off on a list.

Then it was Neville's turn. His hand was still closed around his wand but he knew he had to stay calm. He doubted if he'd be able to do so if he received any remarks of the kind she had given to him at the Department of Mysteries. Blood was pounding in his ears and his heart beat fast but he tried to act as if he was perfectly calm. The last time he had met this witch, she had cast the Cruciatus curse on him. Neville had faced this curse many times in the course of the last months but none had been comparable to hers.

"Your name?" she asked as she had done with everyone else.

"Neville. Neville Longbottom."

Mrs Lestrange looked down on her list and ticked his name off without further comment. She wore makeup that highlighted her dark eyes and her hair was sleek and shiny once more. Neville wondered if she had made this effort to actively avoid people recognising her right away and panicking when they saw her near their children.

"What about Carrow?" Neville asked. "Is he sick? Wait, I know he is. Is he ill I mean?"

The third-years standing beside Neville gasped in horror. Neville tried not to be disappointed. These were supposed to be Gryffindors for Merlin's sake.

"Mr Carrow's services are required elsewhere," Mrs Lestrange said condescendingly. "Get in now. We don't have all day."

Wondering if this wasn't one of the greatest mistakes he had ever made, Neville stepped onto the train and looked for the other Gryffindor DA-members. On the way, he put his blood status card back into his pocket. She hadn't wanted to check it at all, Neville realised.

To his disappointment, he didn't see Ginny anywhere. Seamus, Lavender and Parvati had all come back though. At least something.

"This woman, hasn't she been in Azkaban?" Seamus asked.

"Oh yes, she has," Neville said.

He still hadn't told the other DA members about his parents. In the past, this had been because he didn't want their pity. Nowadays, it was because he didn't want to scare them off.

"Well, they're probably the heroes of the movement now," Parvati said. "The world isn't the same anymore."

This remark made them all think about the recent events.

"I was so sure Harry would make it," Seamus said. "He was the one who started it all, the DA and everything. I really don't know what we're supposed to do now."

"We fight on of course," Neville said. "Harry's gone but that doesn't mean that there are no people left who are prepared to fight for the right thing. We show them that they haven't won, that they won't get us to submit. And after school, we try to found a resistance and continue. Maybe we can at least protect people who are in danger or free them from prison."

He thought of Ron.

"Well-spoken, Neville," Seamus said.

Neville was surprised that he had returned to his old role so quickly. Surrounded by the others, everything felt less hopeless even if the train was guarded by Bellatrix Lestrange.

They decided to have a meeting quickly until Lavender pointed out that the train might not be safe to talk with all the Death Eaters around. The others realised that she had a point and started to talk about their holidays. Neville recounted some of the arguments between his elderly family members, this was safe stuff and not as depressing as most other things.

"My parents were shocked when they saw my injuries," Lavender said with a sigh. "They told me to be more careful and stay out of trouble. Weren't happy. They thought I'd be never interested in anything besides my looks."

"Mine are extremely worried too," Parvati said. "They would rather keep us at home but the laws are against it of course. One of those stupid new laws I'm almost happy about now. I wouldn't want to sit around at home and be forced to let everything happen."

"Mum's the same," Seamus said. "My dad has left the country. You know he's a Muggle and they like to target Muggle spouses of magical folk. Mum would prefer it if we followed." He sighed.

The Sweet Trolley arrived as it did on every journey but no one bought anything. Neville felt it would be wrong to sit here eating sweets as if everything was alright when nothing was. "There's something positive," Parvati said. "Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle can't come in and annoy us with the separate carriages."

This was a small comfort indeed but Neville appreciated the attempt.

A knock on the compartment door interrupted their conversations. Neville looked through the glass door. Behind it stood a wizard with short flax-coloured hair. Neville needed to look at him twice as well until he recognized Bellatrix' husband, the man who had been his greatest cause for nightmares ever since the Potter Watch sequence where Neville had learned that he was in charge of Saint Mungo's. Once more, Neville considered acting so he'd get rid of this threat and once more he decided against it. The loss of one Death Eater wouldn't harm Voldemort and if he wanted to see Neville's parents dead, he'd arrange for this anyway. He would only endanger the other students if he even succeeded which wasn't too likely anyway. Neville had never been the best fighter of the DA.

"Yes," Neville said. He knew that the Death Eater wouldn't leave them alone anyway.

He walked into the compartment, another list in his hand. "Good afternoon. My name is Rodolphus Lestrange. I'm here to check your names once more."

Neville looked at him. "Don't you trust your wife to keep all the "Undesirables" out?"

"I'm here because I want to check if all the "desirables" have found their way in," Lestrange responded smoothly. "You would be Neville Longbottom, correct?"

Neville nodded wondering how he knew this. They had never met as far as he remembered. Lestrange added another mark behind his name.

"Seamus Finnigan."

"My name is Parvati Patil."

"Patil?" Lestrange asked. "Are you related to Lakshmi Patil?"

Neville saw a hint of worry in Parvati's eyes. "Yes, she's my mother, why?" She didn't quite manage to keep her voice steady.

"An excellent potions maker, your mother," Lestrange said. "She's brewing some of the more time-consuming potions for Saint Mungo's at the moment."

"Oh yes, that might be," Parvati said quickly. "Mum doesn't tell me much about work. I've never been good at potions. My sister Padma is though."

Parvati's mother cooperated with Lestrange? Well, it wasn't that surprising, so many people did, why not parents of DA members as well?

The ideal required that Healers should always make their own potions but that didn't always work in practice because they had much other work to do and the potions were easier to get from other people than healing magic. There were some specific ones that were forbidden for everyone who wasn't a sworn Healer though. Neville had researched this thoroughly before his OWL-results had made it crystal clear that he had to bury his childhood dream of becoming a Healer himself.

Lestrange made no remark about Lavender but spoke to everyone in the compartment again. "There is something I have to tell you all. Amycus and Alecto Carrow have both resigned from their teaching positions and I shall take over the position of Dark Arts teacher from Mr Carrow."

Neville's hands gripped the edges of his seats. He didn't believe it? Lestrange as a teacher? This had to be a joke. Voldemort couldn't think he'd get away with that, could he?

"And you're wife's going to teach Muggle Studies now?" he asked. The idea seemed absurd.

"She's going to teach History of Magic," Lestrange said. "You will attend that instead of Muggle Studies from now on."

"History of Magic, seriously," Seamus sighed. "I never thought I'd have to take this again."

"Don't worry; I'm sure that her take on the subject will be more entertaining than that of Professor Binns," Lestrange said.

Neville wasn't sure if this was supposed to be a threat. He had no interest whatsoever in finding out what Bellatrix Lestrange's idea of an "entertaining" class was. Were they going to re-enact every historic occurrence of torture both magical and Muggle? It was probably going to be something like this. He couldn't think of another reason why she would agree to leave Dark Arts to her husband.

"Back to Dark Arts class. Mr Carrow has assigned you an essay about the Cruciatus curse to write over the holiday. I'd like you to hand it in to me now so I can take a look before we're having our first lesson together."

"You want to read the essay?" Neville stuttered before he was able to stop himself. This hadn't occurred to him at all. Of course not. There had been too many acute problems to worry about something Voldemort might do like letting the Lestranges teach at Hogwarts.

"Yes, I want to read it," Lestrange said, a hint of surprise in his voice. "I'm sure there have been no secrets between you and Mr Carrow you don't want to share with me, have there?"

"No, of course not," Neville said. He merely hadn't expected anyone to actually read the essay. It was written in a way that shouldn't turn this into a real problem, wasn't it? He had at least tried to write it that way.

The four Gryffindors opened their trunks and searched for their essays. Seamus gave Neville's an astonished look. "How can you write that much about the Cruciatus curse? What is there to write about it? The Cruciatus curse causes pain and the incantation is Crucio."

Neville flinched involuntarily when he heard the word. He hoped that Lestrange hadn't noticed.

"You do know that one sentence doesn't meet the requirements of an essay?" Lestrange said to Seamus. Neville's fellow Gryffindor said nothing. "And you're not supposed to speak incantations of any kind so nonchalantly."

The four Gryffindors shared puzzled looks. No one had expected a remark like this. Had he noticed his discomfort? But why should he care?

Neville felt the need to make sure that no one got the wrong impression. "I was simply bored during the holidays," he said looking at Seamus. "That's why I decided to look into a few books." The word "bored" didn't describe his feelings during the holiday adequately at all but that didn't matter.

"One of the more reasonable ways to fight boredom," Lestrange said. "Have a good journey. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon in our first lesson."

"Do you reckon they will be better than the Carrows?" Seamus asked when Lestrange was out of earshot.

"Well, it can't really get worse, can it?" Lavender asked.

Neville was sure that it could get considerably worse. There was one positive aspect though. Lestrange had this job at Saint Mungo's and Voldemort certainly needed his wife for other assignments as well. This meant that the Death Eater presence in Hogwarts would be reduced which gave the DA more freedom. Neville was also glad that he had brought the second copy of the essay with him as well. He had written down various first-aid measures for Cruciatus curse victims which he would surely need now.

"They've been in Azkaban," Parvati said. "They must be worse."

"Yes, but maybe the Carrows simply didn't get caught," Lavender suggested. "Does anyone know what they were put in prison for?"

Neville took a deep breath. He really should tell them now but he simply couldn't bring himself to do it. There had been small remarks in the articles after the Azkaban breakout but no one really seemed to have noticed though Neville was sure some people must have done so. They never brought it up to him though. Neville didn't want them to be even more scared than they already were. If they feared that they might lose their minds every time they were subjected to the Cruciatus curse, they wouldn't dare to do anything anymore and they needed to keep the resistance going. He knew that it didn't happen when you were only under the curse for a short time and after his research he even knew why but he feared it would be too complicated to get the other DA members to understand this.

"They were sent to Azkaban because they used the Cruciatus curse," Neville said simply.

"It's hard to believe but this really earned you a life-long holiday on the island a little while ago," Seamus said.

"We probably shouldn't talk about Azkaban like this in their presence," Parvati said. "It must be an extremely awful place. Just remember the Dementors in our third year."

"We _should_ talk about Azkaban like this in their presence," Neville said. "They don't care about our feelings either."

Azkaban would be a sore spot for them. Maybe Neville could get some revenge this way. It wouldn't be an outright attack or anything else that was suicidally stupid but maybe it would hurt and make them feel at least a little fraction of the suffering they had caused. He wouldn't make their "teaching career" easy that much was clear.

"Let's simply wait and see what's happening before we decide what we do," Lavender suggested. "Maybe it is actually going to get better. This was the first time we had an actual polite conversation with a Death Eater ever."

Did she really believe this was only about the treatment they received here at Hogwarts? Well, he'd need to remind everyone at the next meeting what they were fighting for now that the hope in Harry had gone.

"Anyway, we have to expect them to be as obsessed with the Cruciatus curse as the Carrows are?" Seamus asked.

"Yes, and probably even more so," Neville said remembering Mrs Lestrange's curse once more. He wasn't sure if it had felt so much worse because it had been the first time or if there were any other reasons. He'd probably find out soon.

The early winter's night had already arrived when the train reached Hogsmeade station. It was still raining. The carriages were waiting for the students who walked over under the watchful gazes of Death Eaters once more. At least, they didn't seem to have any Dementors nearby.

Neville jerked back when he felt someone softly touching his shoulder from behind. He turned around and looked into the large grey eyes of a young girl with long blond hair.

"Sorry, Neville, I didn't want to startle you," she said softly.

"Luna, you're alive!"

"Yes, I am. I know I should have contacted you bit it wasn't possible. Death Eaters nearby all the time." She had lowered her voice to a whisper.

Neville looked at her intently. Luna looked just like he remembered her. A little bit thinner maybe but apart from that, he could see no visible traces of the two-weeks of captivity she had suffered.

"Are you alright? Have they hurt you?" he asked.

"I'm fine, thanks. There were some Wrackspurts in the dungeon but I got by." Neville sighed with relief. At least once, his worst fears had not come true. Luna was alive and she still seemed to be the same.

"Hurry up over there," a harsh female voice called. "We don't have all day."

"Mrs Lestrange," Luna said shaking her head slightly. "I don't understand why she's always got so little time."

After patting the Thestrals amicably, she joined the four Gryffindors in one of the carriages.

"They've brought me to the house of Draco's parents," Luna said as they had all settled down. "They have dungeons in their house. It's strange, isn't it?"

"Yes," Neville said. He didn't feel like discussing this matter. He needed to know what had happened without Luna getting off-track.

"There was this man who's always brought us food," Luna said as if she knew what he wanted to know. "He was quite nice actually when we got to know each other. He was glad to have someone to talk to I think. They were all really mean to him and kept calling him "Wormtail". His real name is Peter."

Neville didn't know who she was talking about. At the moment, he couldn't think of a Death Eater named Peter.

"Mr Lestrange sometimes came and asked me many questions. I told him everything about the Rotfang Conspiracy and the Heliopaths." Luna smiled serenely.

For the first time since he had heard the fateful Potter Watch broadcast, Neville laughed.

"I'm really, really glad you're back," he told her.

The reason was a sad one of course, after Harry's death, the Quibbler couldn't publish anything about him anymore, but he was still happy to see her again and relatively well at that. It was the first good thing that had happened in a very long time. Neville wasn't alone anymore. Luna was still there and Ron was alive as well. Maybe they'd find a way to get him free.

"So am I," she said.

"Did you see Ron and Hermione somewhere?"

Luna shook her head. "I'm sorry. They must have taken them somewhere else. I only heard what had happened when they told me I could return to Hogwarts. We visited my father but there have always been Death Eaters around."

It probably wasn't too surprising, Neville thought. The hand of Mrs Weasley's clock had shown that Ron was in "prison". The house of the Malfoys probably didn't count as such so he was probably in Azkaban. Neville really hoped that he'd make it until they had finished school and could contact the Order in some way to help him and Hermione get free.

The carriages reached the gates of Hogwarts and the students walked towards the school, everyone keen to escape the rain quickly. Bellatrix Lestrange was talking to Malfoy who didn't look too happy about that. Even he seemed to be scared of his aunt.

Neville felt far more confident now. With Luna back, he wouldn't have to take care of everything on his own. It would be easier that way and at least one person less he needed to worry about.

His relatively good mood vanished quickly when he settled down at the Gryffindor table with his classmates and looked at the High Table. Bellatrix Lestrange was gazing down on them haughtily while other people were conspicuously absent. Neville couldn't see Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout or Professor Flitwick anywhere. Instead, three strangers were sitting on the table or rather two strangers. Neville knew the third person. It was Callista Greengrass, the daughter of Harfang and Callidora. He had only met her at the few largest family gatherings but still recognised her.

As soon as everyone had settled down, Professor Snape got to his feet. Silence fell over the waiting students.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts after your hopefully pleasant holidays," Snape said which sounded like cruel mockery in Neville's ears. It probably was. "There have been some changes in staff as you might have already noticed. Professor McGonagall has _chosen_ to dedicate her full time to her editor's job at Transfiguration Today."

He laid a delicate stress on the word "chosen". No one believed for a second that she had left willingly. Neville desperately hoped that the rest was true and that the teachers were at least still free and alive.

"Her position as Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor house will be filled by Professor Minona Moonshine from now on."

He indicated one of the two strangers, a witch with rather wild curly brown hair. She got up with a smile but barely got any applause. Neville couldn't imagine her being able to substitute Professor McGonagall. He had never heard her name anywhere before. Could she even be a pure-blood? At least not from one of the old lines. Neville wondered where the Death Eaters might have found her.

"Professor Flitwick has decided to accept our offer for early retirement. The position of Charms teacher and Head of Ravenclaw house will now be filled by Professor Callista Greengrass."

Neville knew that his father's cousin had been a Ravenclaw. He didn't understand how she could volunteer to work for Voldemort though. He couldn't bring himself to applaud.

"Professor Sprout wishes to enjoy the growing of plants without the stress brought by students from now on. Our new Herbology teacher and Head of Hufflepuff house will be Professor Benjamin Dunstan."

The young man who sat beside Slughorn got to his feet and waved at the students. Neville remembered his name. He had played Quidditch for Hufflepuff during his first year. Some of the older Hufflepuffs seemed to recognise him as well and gave him some applause. Neville wondered if Dunstan had chosen to become a Death Eater. He couldn't believe it in Aunt Callista's case but you never knew of course.

"Amycus and Alecto Carrow have left us as well," Snape continued when the applause had died down. His lips were curling slightly.

Only a few Slytherins applauded when he introduced the two Lestranges and announced which subjects they were going to teach. Hardly anyone seemed to be keen on History of Magic. The two Death Eaters seemed to be completely unperturbed by this.

"Now that this is done, there are a few more announcements I have to make. Hogsmeade visits will be possible once more from now on if you've shown through good behaviour that you are worthy of such a privilege."

Neville sighed. This surely wouldn't apply to him even though it could have been useful. This announcement was met with some applause by people who weren't Slytherins as well. Snape's next statement caused even more applause.

"The Quidditch House Cup will be held again which means that you will need to start training quickly. Everyone interested in playing for their house should contact Madam Hooch who will decide in cooperation with Madam Lestrange who will be suitable for this task."

"Our chances probably aren't that good," Seamus muttered. "Harry, Ron and Ginny are not here anymore and Lestrange probably won't allow us to have a team that can beat Slytherin."

"Well yeah, but it will still be great to have Quidditch again," Demelza Robins said. "A bit of distraction in this mess."

Snape's eyes narrowed as he continued: "There's another novelty to be announced. Professor Lestrange considers your physical fitness to be a concern of utmost importance." There was something in Snape's voice that made it quite clear that he disagreed. "Therefore there will be flying lessons for students of all years from now on. Nothing changes for the first years, but the students in higher classes will be flying with her once a week."

"What!" Neville couldn't help himself. He had never touched a flying broom again after his disastrous first flying lesson. Falling off his broom in front of Bellatrix Lestrange ranked extremely low on the list of things he wanted to do.

His classmates seemed to be rather excited by the prospect though. People who weren't on the teams and didn't have their own brooms normally didn't have any opportunity to fly while at Hogwarts.

"Thank you, that is all for the moment. Now enjoy your dinner," Snape finished.

A few people actually applauded.

Neville didn't like this. He didn't like it at all. The teachers he knew and trusted since his first years were gone, his parents' torturers were supposed to teach and there were all kinds of strange new rules.

But worst of all, there actually seemed to be people who liked some of the things Snape had told them about and not all of them were Slytherins.


	5. Chapter 4 Monday Morning

**Monday Morning**

8. PM – usual place – new plans – Neville.

Neville sent this message to all the DA coins before breakfast. Afterwards he put the Galleon into a hidden pocket of his robes. He wasn't going to leave it in the dormitory with this new woman Minona Moonshine being Head of House and able to come in. She had introduced herself the day before and seemed friendly but Neville wasn't foolish enough to let himself be deceived by this. The Death Eaters sure had had their reason to send her and it couldn't have been a good one.

His first lesson was double Herbology. Before the Christmas holidays he had been glad about this because he would do something he liked and was good at first thing each week and he'd meet a friendly and supportive teacher. The latter at least was not true anymore. Professor Sprout was gone.

Monday afternoon, Dark Arts class followed. This subject like Muggle Studies or now History of Magic had been made obligatory for everyone. If this hadn't been the case, Neville would have opted out when he found out that Carrow was going to teach and all the other DA members who had chosen to study Defence Against the Dark Arts would have done the same.

Neville didn't let it show but he dreaded each of these lessons. He was prepared to face various physical injuries and the Cruciatus curse to prove his point but that didn't mean he enjoyed the experience. Usually, Carrow managed to make him so angry that he spoke up no matter what and forgot his worries but he hardly managed to get any food down before Dark Arts class. There was something much worse than having these things done to himself. The Carrows commonly used the Cruciatus curse on people who had landed themselves in detention, no matter how young they were and they tried to force the seventh-year students to do it. Neville did his best to spare the younger students by drawing attention to himself but he hadn't always been successful. Watching a frightened twelve-year old under the Cruciatus curse was almost unbearable and imagining Lestrange doing it was even worse.

Neville cherished no illusions; he knew that they were far more ruthless and efficient with this curse than the Carrows were. He didn't want to imagine a fellow student falling ill from the curse but he knew that the danger was real.

The other Gryffindors hadn't chosen NEWT-level Herbology and neither had the DA-Ravenclaws which meant that Neville sat with the Hufflepuffs. With the exception of Zacharias Smith, all of them were continuing Herbology. Zacharias and his family had surprised everyone including Neville by claiming that Justin Finch-Fletchley's mother had had an affair with Zacharias' uncle making him a half-blood. Thus they had saved Justin from the persecution faced by the other Muggle-borns and Neville had to admit that the Smiths truly didn't only question Harry but also Voldemort and his regime. If Neville had understood this part correctly, they suspected that Voldemort had killed Zacharias' great-grandmother as a young man.

Professor Dunstan greeted them with a friendly smile. "Good morning class. My name is Benjamin Dunstan. Some of you may still know me from my last year at Hogwarts. I've been on the Hufflepuff Quidditch time but you probably understand why a career in professional Quidditch hasn't been an option for me."

A few of the Hufflepuffs laughed. Neville also remembered that Gryffindor had defeated the Hufflepuffs after only five minutes in his first year.

"I've started training at the National Magical Garden Centre after taking my NEWTs and I've been working there ever since."

The NMGC was where Neville had planned to apply after finishing school as well. Part of him still wanted to live through the year somehow and do just that but he knew that he couldn't simply sit back and do nothing. He had to continue the fight.

"I've been quite surprised when Professor Snape asked me if I wanted to become a teacher," Dunstan continued. "It's not that long since I've finished school myself after all. I'll do my best though. Professor Sprout has been full of praise for you so I hope things will go well here. Does anyone have any questions?"

A few Hufflepuffs raised their hands and so did Neville.

"Yes, please tell me your name when you speak," Dunstan said, looking at Hannah.

"Hannah Abbott. Did you meet Professor Sprout? Do you know if she's really fine? You didn't tell us that yesterday."

The other Hufflepuffs put their hands down. That was obviously what they had wanted to know as well.

"Yes, I have met her and she has told me what you've been covering," Dunstan confirmed. "She is fine even though she said rather openly that leaving the school has not been her own choice. She has more or less been dismissed because of her former association with Professor Dumbledore."

The students nodded. Neville gave Dunstan one mental point because he openly admitted this while Snape had not done so.

"Neville Longbottom. I have a question as well. Are you a Death Eater?"

"No, I'm not," he said even showing his Mark-free arm. "I've never been interested in politics, only plants and Quidditch." He laughed slightly nervously.

The rest of the lesson was spent on the Venomous Tentaculas Professor Sprout had started teaching them about before the holidays. Professor Dunstan first made sure that everyone could perform a working Severing charm which would fight the plants off and warned them about the dangers of the bites various times. Then he let them pick off a leave each that Professor Slughorn could use for his potions. They were only allowed to approach the plants one by one under Dunstan's careful supervision. He seemed to be very worried about accidents. Neville was sure that he could handle a Tentacula on his own without getting harmed and he would have liked to prove it. Professor Sprout was much more nonchalant there but she had been teaching students for years of course. Dunstan seemed to be very worried that there might be an accident in his first lesson and he didn't want the students to get hurt.

At least, Dunstan didn't seem to want that which couldn't be taken for granted in a teacher chosen by the Death Eaters. Neville also had to admit that he was doing his best to give a good lesson and that he knew what he was talking about. He missed Professor Sprout, but at least, Herbology wouldn't be a subject from hell now as well.

After Herbology, Neville had a free period. Ernie, Susan and some of the others went off to Transfiguration but Hannah and Eloise had a free period too. Eloise Midgeon had joined the DA at the beginning of the year. Formerly, she had mainly been known because of her acne and her otherwise not very desirable looks but during the course of this term, she had proven to be a loyal friend and a valuable asset because she knew much about potions and spells that helped against physical disfigurements. The Carrows, especially Alecto liked to inflict this upon the students.

"What do you think about Dunstan?" she asked. "I think I like him. But I never got along with Professor Sprout that well. And he's rather good-looking isn't he?"

Neville remembered the time in fourth year when Professor Sprout had mentioned her unsuccessful attempt to curse her pimples off in front of the entire class. Neville was sure that the teacher hadn't meant to humiliate her but she had done it all the same of course.

"I think it could have been worse," Neville said. "We can't trust him though. He's still been chosen by the Death Eaters. Let's not forget this."

"Yes, you're right," Hannah said. "I'm really missing Professor Sprout. She's been so nice to me when, you know, when this happened with my mother." There were still tears in her eyes when she talked about it.

"The Death Eaters have killed her haven't they?" Neville asked. Everyone had assumed this of course but Hannah had never told anyone.

"She got into some sort of struggle in Diagon Alley," Hannah said."The Aurors said she might have fought but she could have been hit by a stray curse as well. She's never been the kind of person who'd get herself into a fight you see. More interested in growing things and the like."

"Maybe this time she did," Neville said. He thought that the idea of her mother having died fighting would be more comforting than thinking that she had simply been hit by a stray curse. At least she had tried to make a difference.

Part of him thought that he might feel better if his parents had died fighting as well. He wouldn't have to worry about them anymore but could face his own fight bravely. Another part of him always feel horrible ashamed if he thought something like that. He should be grateful that they were still alive.

"Maybe she has," Hannah said wiping away her tears. "Either way, I'm missing her so much. They say it would get better but it doesn't. I still dream about her so many times, I'm dreaming that it was a mistake, that she wasn't dead at all, that she's simply turning up at home. Then I wake up and remember that it isn't true."

She cried openly now. Eloise put an arm around her. Neville would have liked to do that too but he knew that as a boy, he couldn't do it just like that. She might be offended if he did.

"You will never forget her and you don't want that, do you? It will get better though. My grandfather died when I was six and it was the same. I'm still missing him though."

Neville's grandfather had been much kinder than his wife and Neville had been able to talk to him openly in a way he never could with her. Sometimes, he still wished he could talk to him again.

"Of course I don't want to forget her," Hannah said under tears. "Do you think we should start our homework? We don't know how much else we'll get." They were supposed to write something about the safe handling of Venemous Tentaculas.

"I'd like to go to the library too," Neville said. "I want to look for books about treating the effects of the Cruciatus curse."

"So you reckon we'll need that," Eloise asked.

"Definitely," Neville said and the two agreed to help him find the books.

Neville soon found out that there wasn't much on the subject in the Hogwarts library at all. Some books about first-aid for dark magic injuries mentioned the Cruciatus curse but there was nothing Neville didn't already know.

In the end, he even chose to ask the strict librarian Madam Pince. If you spoke to her politely and treated her precious books well, she was relatively likely to help.

"Excuse me; do we have any books about treating the after effects of the Cruciatus curse here?" Neville asked.

Madam Pince checked the register with narrowed eyes. "Yes we do but they're in the Restricted Section. Too much information about the curse itself. You'll need permission from a teacher."

Neville suppressed a sigh. "Really? Is this still handled so strictly? We're supposed to learn the Cruciatus curse in class now."

"This might be but my rules have not changed. Bring me a signed note and I'll hand you the book."

"Could you give me the title?" Neville asked. He should have done this before the holidays. McGonagall, Flitwick or Sprout would have given him permission right away if he told them what he needed the books for. Now, he didn't know which teacher he should ask. There was no one he could trust. Slughorn was an opportunist and Neville had never been one of his favourites anyway.

"You could try "Making the Unbearable Bearable" by Dilys Derwent," Madam Pince suggested. "And Shattered Minds and Shattered Magic – What the Cruciatus curse leaves behind, author unknown."

Neville knew about Dilys Derwent, the famous Healer and Headmistress and he really didn't understand why a book written by her was in the Restricted Section in the first place. The other one sounded raster unpleasant though.

Neville wrote the titles down, thanked Madam Pince and left to find a teacher while the girls started their Herbology homework. Maybe he should ask Professor Dunstan. Moonshine and Slughorn could be an option too.

Neville went to the Entrance Hall and walked around there rather aimlessly. The teachers would probably pass through when they had finished their lessons and went to lunch. Maybe one of them would sign his permit. A group of Slytherin fourth years passed and snickered as they saw Neville standing there on his own. They didn't go for an attack tough. Neville was glad about that. His chances would lessen considerably if he had to fight back and was caught. When the Slytherins had walked into the Great Hall, a bunch of Gryffindor second-years followed. They did not laugh at Neville but cast admiring glances into his direction.

Neville wasn't sure which reaction made him more uncomfortable. Unlike Harry, he had never experienced anything resembling admiration during his time at Hogwarts.

Neville cursed his luck when Lestrange of all people descended the marble staircase. His eyes quickly scanned the room and he noticed that there was something odd about Neville standing there like this right away.

"Are you looking for something, Neville?"

Neville hesitated. His first impulse was telling him that it was none of his business but he really wanted to have a look at these books. Why not make Lestrange the unknowing helper in his attempts to protect himself and his fellow students from his and his wife's Cruciatus curse?

"Yes, I do. I'm looking for a teacher to sign a permit to lend books from the Restricted Section in the library. I want to do some background reading for Dark Arts class. I didn't know these books were still forbidden."

This wasn't even a real lie even though being that polite to a Death Eater who wasn't just a Death Eater but one of his parents' torturers wasn't easy.

"Do you think you could give me permission?"

"Of course," Lestrange said. "Let me see what you have in mind."

Neville handed him the slip of parchment. Lestrange looked slightly surprised. "They've put the Derwent book into the Restricted Section? Unbelievable. Anyway, that book is really recommendable. The other one isn't for the squeamish. It's probably not what you're looking for but you can form your own judgement if you wish. Don't leave it lying around for younger students to find."

"I won't," Neville said. He wondered what the book might contain that warranted such a warning under the current conditions.

"You can also try Magic Most Painful by an anonymous author consortium and "The Shadows of Pain" by Frances Fawley."

"Alright," Neville said and asked himself if there really was a book about the Cruciatus curse written by an ancestress of his mother's.

Lestrange added the two titles to the slip of parchment. "They've all been published before 1900," he said. "Regrettably, there are no recent English language publications about the Cruciatus curse at all because Ministry policy here became more restrictive."

"Well, this will change now, won't it?" Neville asked. His voice made it clear that he did not welcome this development.

"I hope so," Lestrange said ignoring Neville's tone. He signed the piece of parchment and Neville forced himself to thank him before he hurried off to the library once more.

Madam Pince wasn't too pleased when she saw Lestrange's signature. "Always used to sneak around the Restricted Section as a student. No one wanted to give him a permission to get a book. And now he calls himself a teacher." She shook her head.

Neville quickly assured her that he really wanted the books to learn about treatment options. Still shaking her head, Madam Pince handed them to him.

He gave Hannah and Eloise the thumps up and joined them. Attracted by Lestrange's warning, he looked at "Shattered Minds and Shattered Magic" first. The cover of the book was black with a sickly green pattern full of knots, blockages and torn threads. Neville quickly recognised it as a magic pattern from a person who had suffered damaged from the Cruciatus curse. The book began with a description of a person's descent into madness from the Cruciatus curse and each step had various pictures. The first steps were labelled "resistance" and "endurance", Neville realised that some of the Cruciatus curse pictures Snape had put up in the DADA-classroom and the Carrows had kept there came from this book. The following pictures became far more gruesome than any Neville had seen before. They showed for example a witch who was scratching her own skin open with her fingernails and already spotted various bleeding wounds while writhing in pain and a wizard who lay in a pool of vomit and urine, his entire body contorted. The callous descriptions didn't make it any better.

Neville closed the book and wished he hadn't looked at it but it was too late and the images were fixed in his head.

To distract himself, he opened the book written by his mother's relative and soon found out in the foreword that Frances Fawley had been a Healer at the Spelldamage Department at Saint Mungo's who had tried to help the victims of the curse and had written the book to let others participate in her findings and experience. Her descriptions of the curse were held in the factual Healer language Neville was very familiar with. This one was really informative and Neville began to read.

"Neville, I think we should go now if we want to have time for lunch," Hannah said after a while. "You can read on later."

Neville sighed. The prospect of the Dark Arts lesson didn't make him feel like eating much and the images from "Shattered Minds" didn't help either. "I think I'll skip dinner. See you in Dark Arts."

"You really shouldn't do this, Neville. You've already lost so much weight," Hannah said.

Neville was slightly startled. Was she observing him so closely? "This can only do me good," he said. His grandmother had remarked that his love for chocolate and other food made him look too plump.

"I've heard there will be steak pie," Hannah said. "Isn't it one of your favourites?"

"Yes, it is," Neville admitted. He had told her about his favourite food after one DA meeting where he had tried to cheer her up but it had never occurred to him that she'd remember something like this. "Alright, I'll come with you."

Hannah beamed which gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling. For a moment, cruel images and Dark Arts lessons were forgotten.


	6. Chapter 5 Like Repelling Grindylows

**Like Repelling Grindylows **

True to his promise to Hannah, Neville ate one serving of steak pie which really tasted delicious.

He managed to keep himself from imagining vomiting everything up again under the Cruciatus curse later until he had finished eating. Then, the thought came to him though.

He forced himself to focus on the Gryffindor second-years who already had their first lesson with Lestrange. Neville heard things like "Shield Charm," "Expelliarmus" and "much better than Carrow". He was glad that the younger students hadn't been harmed of course but he didn't want them to actually like Lestrange's lessons either. It seemed as if he had started teaching them normal duelling spells which could have been part of the old DADA-curriculum as well. It wasn't that surprising. Second-years were two young to practice dark magic anyway.

The four Gryffindors arrived at the Dark Arts classroom relatively early so they could secure their favourite seats in the last row closest to the exit. If someone like Crabbe or Goyle started experimenting with new dark spells, being close to the door was a definite advantage. They had set the room on fire at least twice and it had taken Carrow a while until he had figured out how to stop the fires.

The classroom was lit by daylight once again, Lestrange obviously didn't see any need to keep the curtains closed constantly as Snape and Carrow had done. Snape's pictures had vanished from the walls as had the various whips, chains, knives and other torture instruments added by Carrow. The only thing hanging on the wall at the moment was a poster describing "basic defensive spells" made by Gryffindor second-years and Hufflepuff third-years.

The room filled rather quickly. Even though many people were missing, the obligatory nature of the class made it rather large. There were 26 people if Neville had counted correctly during Carrow's lesson.

Most people settled down quickly and waited in silence. Some of them, especially Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws looked rather pale. Only Crabbe was bragging to Millicent Bulstrode about his Cruciatus curse skills. Neville doubted that this was the best pick-up technique, even for someone like Millicent Bulstrode. He pulled "Shadows of Pain" out and began to read for distraction. The Carrows hadn't assigned them any textbooks, a fact that made the Ravenclaws especially uncomfortable.

Lestrange arrived alone. Neville was relieved to see that he hadn't brought any detention candidates with him. The only would-be victims for this lesson seemed to be seventh-years and the spider that scurried around the jar he had brought to class.

The students rose to their feet in silence as Carrow had demanded. Neville remained seated his face still behind the book. With Carrow, this had always led to an argument which shortened the lesson and gave the Death Eater less time to use dark magic on anyone.

"Good afternoon seventh-years. You may sit down."

The students obeyed and Lestrange's eyes fell on Neville. "I know that this book is fascinating Neville but you should still put it away during class. It won't run away, you have four weeks until you need to give it back."

A few of the other students looked into his direction. Neville was slightly embarrassed. Normally, he wasn't the one reading all the time. Hermione was but she wasn't here and he had to do this kind of research himself.

"Longbottom can read? One learns something new every day," Malfoy said. The other Slytherins snickered.

"Five points from Slytherin, Draco. No one speaks in my class without being asked to," Lestrange said.

Malfoy looked mortified. He was used to being allowed to say and do whatever he wanted in this class if it went against the Gryffindors. Carrow had liked to have a laugh with him. Everyone else including Neville was surprised by this as well. It was the first time Slytherin had lost points in one of the classes taught by Death Eaters.

"I want your full attention now," Lestrange said. "The magic we're dealing with in this class is not without danger. It shouldn't be necessary to remind you of that but I'm afraid it is."

Some of the students exchanged uneasy looks. Everyone was extremely quiet; Lestrange got his wish. Neville couldn't think of a way to interrupt that didn't make him look like an ill-behaved child.

"This is not the place to mess around or crack stupid jokes at the expense of others." He looked in Malfoy's direction. "I need you to listen if I explain something and I need you to follow my orders. You're free to ask whenever something is unclear or when you disagree with something I'm telling you but only if your question has to do with the subject at hand. This doesn't apply for questions about the number of Muggles in my family tree or similar."

His eyes were on Neville as he said this and Neville wondered why Alecto Carrow had told him about this.

"Misbehaviour from your side will be dealt with appropriately. I advise you to make this more pleasant for yourselves as well as for me and follow the rules right away so this becomes avoidable."

"As if you wanted this," Neville said. "Both of you want to punish people. That's what you're here for, isn't it?"

"Normally, I would have to remove five points from Gryffindor now but if I've seen that correctly, Gryffindor is already in the negatives," Lestrange said.

The Slytherins who had fallen quiet during Lestrange's speech were laughing again.

"Any Gryffindor or student from another house without any points left will receive a negative point on my list. If you have three, of those there will be detention. This was your first one."

"So you can say something again once before you get detention," Seamus whispered.

"Let's not waste anymore time," Lestrange said. "Over the holidays, you've been assigned an essay about the Cruciatus curse. The results have been disappointing. Very disappointing. The vast majority of this class have handed in completely inadequate essays. This is even true for some of the people who claim to be able to use the curse."

His eyes swept over the Slytherin side of the classroom.

"I have to admit that I have trouble understanding this. You're learning to use a curse you've been told is absolutely forbidden before and you're not interested in finding out anything about it?" He looked at the Ravenclaws.

Terry Boot obviously felt the need to defend himself. He raised his hand.

"Yes. Do you have a question?"

"Not a question, more a remark," Terry said. "I and I think I'm speaking for many others as well don't really see anything interesting in a curse that purely exists to cause unbearable pain to other people. A curse that needs you to enjoy causing this kind of pain to even work. It's completely impossible to do for any normal person."

Neville gave Terry an approving look.

"What's your name?" Lestrange asked.

"Terry Boot."

"Well, Terry, think about the following: Other magical schools such as for example Durmstrang Institute have always been teaching these curses to the students. Durmstrang students are actually required to be able to perform all of them in their final examinations. You've met some of them in your fourth year and I'm sure you agree that the percentage of "normal people" there isn't much different from here."

"So you-" Padma quickly raised her hand remembering that she wasn't supposed to speak out of turn.

"Yes, Padma," Lestrange said.

"So you're telling us it isn't true that you have to enjoy causing pain to do the Cruciatus curse? Carrow's been telling us that all the time."

A few other people muttered in agreement.

"This is one of the few pieces of information I've found in most of your essays," Lestrange said. "It is an oversimplification and not true in the way you seem to think."

The Ravenclaws didn't seem to be very satisfied with this answer either but they didn't press the point.

"I'm quite sure that you will understand better at the end of this lesson," Lestrange said. "If there are no further questions for the moment, I'd like to add one thing about your essays. An essay is not the place for colloquial terms such as "cruciated" or "imperiused". I don't want to read this from any of you again. You have to take the time to use proper terminology. That's all for the moment. I'm going to return the essays now. I've put some remarks beneath each one but you're going to read the after the lesson. We have lots of work to do and our time is limited."

He made the essay fly towards their authors with a flick of his wand. The students obediently put them away. Neville assumed that they weren't that interested in Lestrange's comments anyway.

"Maybe we should use the word "cruciate" after all if our time is so limited," Seamus whispered. "It's much shorter than saying "use the Cruciatus curse on someone" or something."

"Carrow kept using it," Lavender noted. "Lestrange can't tell us off for it now."

Neville had always been slightly annoyed by the term because it sounded to him as if the user didn't take the matter seriously enough but he wasn't going to argue the point.

"Mr Carrow has left me a list of people who are supposed to be able to perform the Cruciatus curse. I'd like to see that now. I want everyone who can use it to come to the front of the classroom. I hope you know who you are. If not, I can read out the names."

Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Bulstrode and another Slytherin girl from Parkinson's gang, Alison Runcorn got up. Crabbe and Goyle were leading the group grinning eagerly. Lestrange placed one of the spiders on his table and used a spell that kept it from escaping. He didn't bother enlarging the spider which meant that Neville didn't see what happened to it from the last row. Goyle went first. He brandished his wand and shouted: "Crucio!"

"If you perform the curse properly, shouting loudly enough to inflict an earache upon your victim is unnecessary," Lestrange said.

A few people including Seamus laughed at these words. Neville probably would have done so as well if someone else had said it.

"Try again. Focus, hold your wand steady, speak clearly. Yes, much better this time. Next."

Crabbe as usually moved his wand upwards and downwards as if it were a whip. He didn't shout quite as loudly as Goyle but it was still rather loud.

"If you're spider gets knocked out, you've done something wrong," Lestrange stated. "The Cruciatus curse isn't a magical way of beating someone up, Vincent. Try again and keep your wand steady. There is no wand movement required."

Crabbe's second attempt received an "acceptable" from Lestrange, then it was Millicent Bulstrode's turn.

"And again. You're not supposed to stun the spider; you're supposed to cast the Cruciatus curse. Precision matters in magic. Try again."

Neville remembered that he had ended up unconscious after a short bout of pain as well when Bulstrode had practised on him. He had received a few bruises that way.

"Better but still not the Cruciatus curse, next."

Draco Malfoy couldn't satisfy Lestrange's demands either. "You haven't improved one bit and you're not making an effort at all. You've been practising this for over a year now and it still doesn't work. This is the Fatigo-spell you're doing here, not the Cruciatus curse."

Malfoy said nothing but his mood seemed rather bad. Neville didn't understand why he couldn't cast the curse properly. He had always assumed Malfoy would be evil enough for this kind of thing.

Runcorn was next. "You started well and gave up halfway in. Any idea how that happened?"

The Slytherin girl shook her head.

"Well, there's definitely room for improvement here," Lestrange said. "Alison, you need to work around your inhibitions. If you manage this it should work. Draco, you have to start making a real effort. Millicent, you need to work on your focus. This goes for Vincent and Gregory too. Yours was best but still a far way to go."

Crabbe and Goyle obviously weren't satisfied with this feedback. Carrow had always praised their talent for the curse. Neville had found it rather painful as well. Maybe Goyle had interpreted his look correctly, Neville didn't know.

"I can do the curse. I can use it on a person. Do you want to see?"

"I know that the Carrows have handled this differently but I will not have the Cruciatus curse used on students without their explicit permission in my class," Lestrange said. "Do we have any volunteers?"

The class turned even tenser than they had been before. Each student Lestrange looked at made sure to avoid catching his eye so he didn't think they'd want to have the Cruciatus curse practised on them. They all feared that he would pick someone no matter what he had said before if there were no volunteers.

Neville got the unpleasant feeling that he was looking at Hannah a tad bit too long. He couldn't let them hurt her. Better him, he was used to this.

"You can have my permission," he said in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner. Goyle had practised the curse on him various times. Enduring it again wouldn't be a problem.

"Neville, do you really think this is necessary?" Lavender muttered and gave him a worried look. Some of the other DA members including Hannah did the same.

"Are you sure, Neville?" Lestrange asked as well.

"Of course I am." The Death Eater wasn't supposed to believe he was afraid.

Neville walked to the front of the classroom where he faced a grinning Goyle. After a while, the Slytherin looked away.

"On the count of three," Lestrange said.

Goyle pointed his wand at Neville slightly brandishing it once more.

"Hold your wand steady," Lestrange said.

Goyle obeyed. "Crucio!" he called once again rather loudly when Lestrange had finished his counting.

Neville felt the familiar wave of pain wash over him. It happened slowly, gradually and he had enough time to let himself fall to the ground and roll over in a coordinated manner before his legs crumbled underneath him. He had learned this during the months under the Carrows' regime. He was breathing heavily but managed not to cry out.

Neville forced himself to breathe steadily and focused on Goyle rather than on the pain. Beads of sweat appeared on the Slytherin's face and he started to pant.

"He's fighting it," Goyle said angrily.

"What did you expect?" Lestrange merely asked.

Goyle didn't answer. His face was screwed up in concentration. He obviously tried to strengthen the curse. For a moment, it hurt more. Then Neville made it back to the state he had been in before.

"Enough," Lestrange said.

Goyle leaned against the blackboard, panting heavily. Neville got back to his feet.

"I hope you've watched closely," Lestrange told the class. "The Cruciatus curse is not like other spells such as the bone-breaking curse you've learned in this class earlier this year. If someone knows how it works, speaks the right incantation and makes the right wand movement, this spell has the same affect every time it's used. This is different here. Gregory is able to perform the Cruciatus curse but it still didn't work. I'll explain why soon but first, I'll show you the real thing. Pay attention, this will probably be the only time you'll get a practical demonstration from me."

Neville gave him a defiant look but Lestrange didn't seem to notice. He continued talking to the rest of the class: "I've already mentioned that the Cruciatus curse doesn't require any wand movements. They're actually counterproductive. You need to point your wand steadily at the recipient of the curse. It matters which body part you're pointing it at."

He walked around Neville, indicating the various body parts. "Forehead or spine will produce the most powerful curses and the most dangerous ones as well. A curse directed to the stomach will be powerful as well but it's likely to induce vomiting which makes things unnecessarily messy. A curse to the heart can be fatal for weakened people. The danger isn't as great as it's made out to be but you should still avoid that. The most sensible option for our purposes here is directing the curse to the hand or foot; shoes or clothes do no shield against it. You need to look where you point your wand. That's what eye contact means."

Judging by the expressions on their faces, the information that this mattered was new to the Slytherins.

"Well Neville, you might want to sit on the floor right away," Lestrange said.

Neville shook his head. "I won't."

"As you wish," Lestrange said indifferently.

"What makes you so sure that I can't resist yours as well?"

"You don't really need an answer to this, do you?"

Lestrange pointed his wand at Neville's foot as he had announced. "Crucio." He spoke the spell in little more than a whisper but the effect was immediate. The pain overtook Neville without warning or time to prepare himself. He hardly realised that he fell to the floor as he felt something similar to the burning of water intruding into his lungs back when he had almost drowned in the sea during their visit to Blackpool. Only this time it felt much worse as if it wasn't water but some kind of corrosive potion that ate its way through his entire body. He couldn't stand this for another second, could think of nothing but that he wanted it to stop.

Lestrange lifted the curse and Neville remained on the floor, gasping for air. He started at the still empty blackboard, his eyes watering.

Slowly, the ability to think returned. How could this happen? He had never reacted to the curse like this recently, not even when both Carrows tried it together. He knew he needed to get up or the others would either mock him or worry but he still lacked the strength to do so. His flickering eyes found Goyle who looked at Lestrange enviously and Malfoy who had turned rather pale around the nose.

No, Neville was not going to remain on the floor any longer. He moved into a sitting position, waited a little while until he's breathing had turned more evenly again and got back to his feet.

So quietly that no one else could hear, Lestrange told him: "You should know better than to show off like this."

Neville looked to the students still sitting on their desks. There was a shocked silence hanging over the entire class, Hannah had hidden her face in her hands. The others looked scared as well.

"You may all return to your seats," Lestrange said.

When Neville passed Hannah, he saw tears streaking her cheeks. "Hey, everything's alright. I'm fine," he whispered to her.

He could already feel the after effects of the curse lessening. Looking back at it, Neville realised that it had only been an extremely short amount of time. Much more was needed to cause any serious problems. Still, he couldn't deny that the idea of facing this again frightened him. There was no choice though.

He reluctantly listened to the things Lestrange was telling them.

"When the Cruciatus curse is cast, there is an interaction between the magic of the user and the magic of the recipient. Sometimes, this turns into an outright struggle. You've seen this with Gregory and Neville. Gregory didn't manage to overcome Neville's resistance which resulted in the curse not working properly. If the curse works, the magic of caster and recipient mix which usually has adverse effects on the recipient's magic. Those of you who have had the curse used on you as well might have noticed that doing magic yourself is much more difficult if not impossible directly afterwards."

Neville knew this from the research he had done over the holidays but it was probably new to the others.

"This also means that if you cast the Cruciatus curse on different people, something different happens each time. Most people subjected to the curse compare the effects with whatever they consider to be the most painful thing they can think of. This affects the immediate side effects of the curse and may even cause dangerous injuries or death. If someone thinks of drowning for example, there is a slight danger that he might actually suffocate. You usually, don't know what it is if you're casting the curse which means that you need to pay attention to whatever's happening to the person. I can't stress that enough even though I know it's difficult in the beginning. Proper mental discipline makes it possible for the recipient to avoid this kind of reaction and only feel the pure pain."

Neville made a note on his parchment. If this was true, he would find out how to do it. Lestrange couldn't know that he had thought of drowning, could he? The idea was extremely creepy.

"We cannot discuss every individual reaction someone might have to the curse but it's always influenced by the situation as well. That's why I'd like to collect the things the Cruciatus curse is used for now. What can you think of?"

"Torture. Getting information," Alison Runcorn said.

"Punishment," Zacharias Smith added.

Lestrange wrote both suggestions on the right side of the board.

"Practice," Millicent Bulstrode added. "I mean, what we're doing here. Using it on each other so we learn."

"Yes," Lestrange wrote the answer on the left side of the board. "By the way, there's something I'd like to make clear at this point: In future, everyone who wants to practice the Cruciatus curse on fellow students needs to agree to have others practice it on him. I won't have some people using it while others have to serve as subjects all the time. Everyone who doesn't wish to do this will practice on spiders. It will not affect your marks or anything; I can tell if you're doing it right on a spider too."

Crabbe and Goyle didn't look happy about this announcement at all.

"Any other uses you can think of?"

"Well, what the Death Eaters are doing all the time. Just because, to make other people's lives miserable," Michael Corner said.

Lestrange turned this statement into "spreading fear among enemies" and wrote it on the right side of the board.

Blaise Zabini was next. "It's also used by people with unusual tastes in bedroom activities," he said dryly.

"Really, Blaise," a shocked Daphne Greengrass said.

"You know everything about that, don't you?" Pansy Parkinson added with a smirk. Various people giggled.

"Silence," Lestrange said. "Seriously, you're all adults, aren't you?"

The noise died down rather quickly. Neville thought that being married to Bellatrix; Lestrange probably had his personal experience on the matter. He decided that he really didn't want to know what two married Cruciatus curse enthusiasts got up to when the lights went out.

"Can anyone think of something else?" Lestrange asked.

When no one volunteered any more information, he explained it himself. "The Cruciatus curse can also be used to end other enchantments on a person. It's the only way someone who isn't caster or victim can break an Imperius curse. This is really quick; a few seconds under the curse are enough. The influence of love potions vanishes quickly under the curse as well."

Neville wondered who had figured that one out.

"Memory charms can only be broken by the Cruciatus curse as well," Lestrange added. "This used to be offered at Saint Mungo's before the Cruciatus curse was banned but the number of people who chose to have it done was rather small. It's nowhere nearly as easy as breaking an Imperius curse. The process roughly takes between one and two hours."

A few people gasped in shock as they heard this time span.

Alison Runcorn asked a question. "Did you ever do this to someone, Sir?"

"Yes, a few times. Had it done to me once too. It's relatively save for a healthy adult if the person using the curse knows what they're doing."

Neville was taken aback by Lestrange's attitude. He talked about torture as if it were his normal job routine. Well, it probably was. When the Carrows talked about the Cruciatus curse they liked to laugh and gloat. Neville found this behaviour less outrageous because they didn't try to hide that it was evil.

"Well, I think we have collected the most important uses of the Cruciatus curse now," Lestrange said. "The danger posed by the curse isn't the same in each situation. It is always the same curse but if caster and recipient share a common goal, it's much safer than in situations where this isn't the case. That's why you can practice on each other if you've agreed to it without threatening your health. We still shouldn't overdo it though. You can think about your decision until we have our next lesson on Wednesday. Before we proceed with this, we have to discuss how it's actually used. Let's begin with the technical matters."

He once more repeated the things he had already told the Slytherins and asked the students to write them down. Neville did so grudgingly. He had no intention of actually doing it. Was Lestrange telling the truth and really didn't intent to have them practice on people in detention? Well, he would see how this developed.

"You might be surprised to hear this but if you want to use the Cruciatus curse, emotions of any kind might get into your way," Lestrange said. "Even the ones like anger or hatred. They cause you to use imprecise magic. That's why you need to try to clear your mind of any emotions, especially when you're trying to do it for the first time. This isn't easy and more difficult for some than it is for others but it can prove useful in other situations as well. When you have cleared your mind of all emotions and thoughts other than your wish to cast the Cruciatus curse, you need to think of a painful memory. It can be something natural or something done by someone else, this doesn't matter. You also need to think of a nightmare. Not a nightmare that's obviously linked to something in your waking life such as being late for an exam but something more indistinct. Think of nothing but those two things and try to cast the curse until it works."

Neville didn't want to think about the things Lestrange was telling him about but he couldn't help it. If painful memories and nightmares made a talented user of the Cruciatus curse, he would probably excel in the field if he really tried it.

"Our time is over for today," Lestrange said. "I want you to think of painful memories and nightmares until Wednesday and write them down in detail. Don't worry, I don't want to know but I will notice if you've done it. That's all for now. You may go."

The students walked out of the classroom, Neville could hear many whispered conversations. "This was the weirdest lesson I've ever had," Seamus said. "He's talking about the Cruciatus curse as if we were discussing how to repel Grindylows."

"He's completely mad," Lavender said. "But it's a different kind of mad from Carrow."

This summed the situation up rather nicely, Neville thought. Lestrange had arranged this rather cleverly. If he really had the Cruciatus curse only used on people who wanted to use it on others, it wouldn't feel so unjust anymore.

Some people might forget that the entire thing was outrageous in itself. Neville needed to remind them of that. Lestrange had conveniently avoided telling them that the Cruciatus curse caused magic damage and could drive people into insanity. It was necessary to inform the others about that even though he wasn't going to give names. He still didn't want to make this personal.


	7. Chapter 6 Writings on the Wall

**Writings on the Wall**

All the DA-members still present at Hogwarts had assembled in the Room of Requirement. Neville was glad to see that everyone had come back. Part of him had feared they might give up after Harry's death. Still, the group had never seemed so small to him. Eighteen out of the hundreds of Hogwarts students, how much of a difference could they really make?

Neville and Luna welcomed the members and the first minutes of the meeting were spent with various people asking Luna how she was. Everyone seemed relieved that she hadn't been badly tortured as they had feared. After this, they held a remembrance for Harry. Everyone recounted something he or she had experienced with Harry. Neville chose their first DA meeting where Harry had partnered with him when he had been left over. A few of the girls cried. Neville felt like crying too but he kept himself from doing it. This wasn't the situation to be so emotional. He'd only make the others more miserable. Afterwards, they observed a minute's silence only broken by sobs from Hannah, Lavender and Romilda.

They next topic didn't make them feel any better. Ginny still hadn't shown a sign of life. Neville told the others about his conversations with Mrs Weasley the day before. At least, they were still alive.

The Room of Requirement also offered a wireless for use by the DA-members. This way, they could listen to Potterwatch safely. Tonight, there didn't seem to be a broadcast though. Neville would have liked to hear the voices of adult opponents of the regime. It was reassuring to hear that they weren't alone. There would be a new broadcast, wouldn't there? The idea of Potterwatch had lost its meaning with the one who was supposed to be watched gone, hadn't it?

"Well, no Potterwatch tonight," Neville said. "We need to discuss the current situation here at Hogwarts. We need to develop a strategy to show the Death Eaters that we do not accept convicted torturers as our teachers. As a first step, I would like to go out and do some graffiti tonight after the meeting."

"That's a good idea," Seamus said.

"Don't you think it's a bit too dangerous?" Zacharias Smith asked. "Maybe we should better wait until we know what they're going to do for punishment before we're doing this kind of thing."

"Well, I'm doing my best not to be caught of course. If I am, we're going to find out about this and can plan accordingly for the future. I don't ask anyone else to participate. I'm going to do this on my own."

"That makes sense," Susan Bones said. "But do you really think it should be you? You're one of the leaders and if their reaction is, well "extreme", well we don't want to lose you."

"I'm sure you can carry on without me as well," Neville said. "I don't want to put anyone else into this situation."

"Well, it's your choice," Terry Boot said. "I wouldn't do it right now though."

The other Ravenclaws muttered their agreement.

"Did you find any first aid measures against the Cruciatus curse?" Eloise asked. "Then you should tell us so we can keep something ready."

"Good thinking," Neville said. "There's Goldberry Leaf Potion but I don't know if Madam Pomfrey's got that."

"Yes, and if she does, she's not supposed to give it to us," Anthony added.

"Well, knowing her, she won't care," Susan Bones said. "Goldberry Leaf Potion you say? Good, just in case. Inform us when it's over."

"Yes, of course."

"Talking about strategy, we need to find out how the Lestranges are going to do things," Michael Corner said. "We don't know if the stuff that worked against the Carrows will work with them too."

Seamus shrugged. "Death Eaters are Death Eaters, aren't they?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean they all act the same way," Michael said. "My father is a Healer at Saint Mungo's, the Artefact Accidents Department, broom crashes and this kind of thing, you know."

The other students nodded.

"You might have heard that Lestrange is in charge their as well," Michael said.

A few DA members including Neville nodded again while others seemed surprised.

"Before him, a Death Eater called Rowle has been responsible for Saint Mungo's. Must have been a really bad time. He kept threatening the Healers and even the patients if they didn't do what he wanted, asked immoral things, Death Eaters were supposed to receive preferential treatment while others should get neglected and so on."

Neville tried to hide how shocked he was about these revelations. He had never been to Saint Mungo's during this time and had no idea what had actually happened there. Hestia had made it seem as if everything was alright and he hadn't seen anything wrong either at first glance.

"Lestrange is different," Michael said. "He actually seems to know what he's doing there and he gives them reasonable instructions and everything."

Neville wondered if he meant to imply that the situation at Saint Mungo's had actually improved under Lestrange's command.

"Dad says one could almost forget that he's a Death Eater. He used to work as a Healer himself before he joined You-Know-Who."

"What?" Neville couldn't keep quiet this time. Rodolphus Lestrange, husband of Bellatrix Lestrange and one of Voldemort's torture specialists was supposed to have worked as a Healer in the past? He couldn't believe this.

"Yes, it's hard to believe but it's true," Michael said. "That means, he knows lots of dangerous stuff that isn't normal Dark Arts. There are good reasons why Healers normally have to swear an oath and follow it you know. "

"And you mean, he still remembers this stuff?" Parvati asked. "Aren't Healers put under a Memory Charm if they have to stop working there?"

"He told us that he had a Memory Charm cast on him broken in the lesson this afternoon," Michael said. Neville was impressed by the amount of detail he had remembered. "That's probably the one. He can do things to us we can't even imagine and defend ourselves against even less."

The DA members shared worried looks. The Carrows had always been relatively predictable. Their arsenal had consisted of the Cruciatus curse, some other pain-causing spells as well as knives and whips. The wounds caused by the latter weren't very dangerous to healthy wizards because their magic protected them from many dangers of mundane injuries.

"He didn't do anything to me while I was at the house of Draco's parents," Luna remarked. "I don't believe that he's like the Carrows and enjoys punishment for the sake of it. I think he believed I didn't know anything important."

"If he thinks we are a real threat, he'll use everything he's got though," Seamus said. "And he's familiar with the practical use of the Cruciatus curse as well."

Neville felt slightly angry at himself. "Volunteering" for this display had been a rather foolish thing to do. He had given Lestrange a chance to display his skill with the curse and embarrassed himself.

"So you think it would be more sensible to pretend we're not doing anything?" Padma asked.

"No, I don't think that's a good idea," Neville said. "People need to know that there's still someone who's standing up to them. We won't achieve much in secret here. We can't let them spread their propaganda without doing anything about it. The others will simply accept it if we do."

"Neville's got a point," Ernie conceded. "The truth needs to get out."

"I'm going to share some information on the Cruciatus curse too as soon as I get the chance in class," Neville said. "People mustn't believe it's harmless."

"Do you think Lestrange will let you do this?" Justin asked. "Maybe we could make leaflets and spread them all over the school. Some people would pick them up before they find them."

"Excellent," Neville said. Maybe he could put some of the pictures from "Shattered minds and shattered magic" on the leaflets. These would show everyone that the Cruciatus curse wasn't harmless.

"We need to find out how to put pictures from a book on leaflets and multiply them," Neville said. "Anyone here who would do this?"

Hannah, Susan and Justin volunteered.

"Good, thank you. Then this will be our next action. If Mrs Lestrange starts spreading lies in History of Magic, we can do the same thing, actually against every lie we get from them."

The other members agreed.

"So we have decided this," Luna said. "Does anyone have any other suggestions?"

"I think we should observe carefully and take notes when possible," Padma said. "This way, we'll figure out what their strategy is and can think of effective counter measures."

The others agreed. When there were no further suggestions, Neville and Luna ended the meeting. In small groups, the students filed out of the Room of Requirement. Curfew was a nine of clock and they were supposed to be back before that without attracting attention.

Neville waited alone. Two spray cans full of red paint transfigured to look like potion bottles and his dragon hide gloves to hide his tracks were already in his bag.

When the hands on his watch had passed the nine, he sneaked out of the room. He wasn't going to leave graffiti nearby; this might betray their meeting place.

The older DA-graffiti were still visible on the walls. Filch and the Carrows hadn't found a means to clean them off and Snape obviously hadn't bothered. Neville was certain that he would be able to brew a potion able to do this but he probably considered it a task for lesser people, not for Albus Dumbledore's killer.

Neville made sure to spray the new graffiti on walls that had still been blank. They would be more visible there.

"Dumbledore's Army, for now and forever", he sprayed. "No torture in Hogwarts." "Remember Harry Potter!" "The murdered enjoin us to resist." "Defend the helpless."

These were a few of the paroles Neville applied to the walls, others only consisted of the two letters "DA" or the familiar "Dumbledore's Army, still recruiting."

Neville chose the wall in front of the DADA-classroom, the marble staircase and the entrance hall, the corridor leading up to the History of Magic-classroom and the pathways down to the dungeon for his graffiti.

He knew there would be hell to pay in the morning. The last times, the Carrows had tortured him and other vocal opponents publicly in the Great Hall to force them to admit who had done it. They hadn't received an answer, only the disgust of students and teachers. It was worth it.

Neville heard a tapping noise. He hid in an alcove and tried to blend in with the dark surroundings. Not that it would be much use. The noise wasn't human; Neville assumed it was a cat. Probably Mrs Norris. When he saw the animal pass a moonlit window, he noticed that it wasn't Mrs Norris. The cat looked a bit like a black version of Crookshanks. It had to belong to one of the students. Neville was relieved. If it had been Mrs Norris, he would have been forced to return to Gryffindor tower. Filch tried his best to support the Death Eaters. Neville wasn't sure if that was because he loved to see the students tortured or because he was scared that as a Squib, he would get into serious trouble if he didn't. Maybe it was a mixture of both.

Neville wondered for a moment if it might not be better to return after all but he decided against it. The way up to the Astronomy tower was used by many students and he wanted to leave some graffiti there as well. It was the place where Dumbledore had died, maybe something to show that they still remembered him.

He had just begun to spray his first one when he heard footsteps. This time, they were unmistakeably human.

"Nox," he quickly muttered and the light at the tip of his wand went off.

As quickly and quietly as he could, Neville hurried away. The footsteps were coming from further downstairs of course. He couldn't simply go back. He needed to find another way down or a place to hide and wait until they were gone.

He kept his arm outstretches so he wouldn't walk into a wall and turned around the corner. A glimpse of light. This had been the wrong direction. The person was walking up there.

Neville quickly turned and ran back down the way he had been coming from. He looked back. The wand light was following him. His pursuer was on his tracks.

Neville began to run. He barely noticed the beginning of the staircase. Running down there in the dark wasn't easy but he could do it, he could do it.

Crash! The ground underneath his feet gave way. He had stepped onto one of the vanishing trick stairs. Neville cursed his bad memory. This shouldn't happen to a seventh-year. His wand was tumbling further downstairs without him. His leg hurt badly. Frantically, he began to work his way out of the stair again. The embarrassing mental image of being found trapped here in the morning was almost worse than being caught by a Death Eater. This could cost him all the respect he had gained in the course of the last few months.

"Oh, look what we've got here. Wouldn't that be little Neville Longbottom?"

Neville jumped. Blinded by the sudden light, he couldn't see anything right away. When his eyes had adjusted, he found himself face to face with Bellatrix Lestrange, wearing simple black robes over her nightdress.

"Did he forget to jump the trick stair?" she asked in the annoying baby voice she had already used back at the Department of Mysteries.

Neville glared at her, his eyes full of loathing. He imagined hitting her a few times in the face, hard. Given his current situation, this wasn't too impressive as he knew only too well. His wand was lying somewhere downstairs and he still didn't get out of the stair. Why, oh why did he always have to embarrass himself when it counted? He had almost gotten over this habit but obviously not completely.

"Maybe Snape assessment of you wasn't so wrong after all," Mrs Lestrange said, this time in her normal voice. "You know, I almost feel like leaving you to spend the night here. The other students will surely be very interested in this. They'll have lots to talk about."

Neville didn't respond in any way. She was right of course, the same thing had occurred to him as well. If she left him here, he might manage to get out of the stair on his own after all though.

"Let me think about it," Mrs Lestrange said, watching him with a very amused expression.

There were new footsteps coming from further downstairs. Both Neville and Mrs Lestrange looked down.

Neville gasped with shock when he saw who it was. Lestrange, leading no other than Hannah Abbott with him.

"Good evening Rodolphus," Mrs Lestrange said, her eyes still full of laughter. "You've found one too? Neville here's been caught red-handed. Literally."

Neville looked at his hands. Stains of red pain were visible on the black gloves. He wouldn't get out of this one, that much was clear.

"It's all been my idea," Hannah said to Neville's shock. "I did this. Neville wanted to get rid of it to keep me out of trouble."

"Hannah, that's not true and you know it," Neville told her. "What are you doing outside anyway? I did it and it's my fault."

What had gotten into her head? He could put up with whatever punishment he was going to face, he had to but Hannah? He didn't want her to suffer. She wasn't used to this. What was she thinking?

"No!" Hannah said with a hint of desperation in her voice. "It was me. You didn't do anything."

"Stop it, Hannah," Neville said. "You don't have anything to do with it."

"You don't have to protect me," Hannah declared.

"Enough!" Mrs Lestrange said. "You'll simply share your punishment."

Neville swallowed. Why did Hannah have to do this? It would have been so much easier if she hadn't been in trouble too.

"You're going to clean your scribbling off the walls," she announced. "All of them."

"The colour doesn't go off," Neville responded. It was a special product made by the Weasley twins for this exact purpose.

"If you use this, it will," Lestrange said and pulled two bottles filled with some kind of clear liquid out of his robes. "But be careful, it will make your skin go off too. I'd advice gloves."

His wife raised her wand and muttered something. "Get up!" she told Neville.

He realised that his leg had been removed from the stair and scrambled to his feet. He winced slightly as he brought weight on his injured leg. What a mess, Neville thought angrily. Why did this have to go so wrong?

Mrs Lestrange conjured two rags and handed one to each student. As she took it, Neville noticed that Hannah didn't wear her gloves. Of course not, she hadn't done any spraying.

"You can use my gloves," he said.

"No," Hannah said. "You keep them."

Neville pulled the gloves off and handed them to her. "Here, take them."

She shook her head. "No, I don't want to make this even worse for you," she said miserably.

"We don't have all night," Mrs Lestrange said.

"I think Hannah should use the gloves," her husband added. "Neville's a Gryffindor and not unused to injury, aren't you Neville?"

Neville didn't answer but Hannah reluctantly pulled the gloves on.

Lestrange handed them the potion bottles and the work began. Neville initially hoped that Lestrange's potion wouldn't be able to dissolve the paint either but this hope was crushed quickly. As soon as he had put some droplets of the potion onto the first graffiti ever the pain started to run down the wall. It looked a bit like a bleeding wound. When it reached the ground, the potion had already removed all traces of red.

Touching the wrong parts of the rag burned like holding your hands under overly hot water but so far, it didn't make Neville's skin come off. He still hated the entire procedure though. The Lestranges made them walk through the entire school and wipe every single graffito off the wall even the old ones. Most of them had been done by Ginny and Neville felt like a traitor when he had to wipe them away. He knew that he would only make a fool of himself if he refused though. Even a teacher like Professor McGonagall would have seconded this punishment if she had still been there. The work dragged on and on. The DA had thoroughly spread graffiti all over the school and the Lestranges seemed to be determined to have them clean all of them away.

While her husband watched from a distance, Bellatrix Lestrange was breathing done their necks all the time, watching the cleaning with obvious pleasure. Just like Umbridge, Neville thought. The only differences were that Lestrange was more evil and, he had to admit that, better-looking.

"I also don't like to decorate my rooms with pink kittens," the Death Eater suddenly said.

Neville jumped so badly, he poured about a third of his potion over his hand. He gritted his teeth. The stuff burned like hell but he didn't want to give them the satisfaction of knowing he was in pain. There was a more pressing matter anyway. How could she have known that he had been thinking about Umbridge? There were only two possible reasons. Either Neville had talked loudly to himself without noticing it or she was able to read minds. Neville didn't know which version he preferred. Both were rather disturbing.

Neville could barely move his hand anymore. Even brushing over the rag caused unbearable pain now. The Lestranges had put on the nightly lighting of Hogwarts so they could find the graffiti more easily. Neville used the opportunity to take a quick look at his hand when he passed one of the better illuminated parts of the corridor while Mrs Lestrange was focusing on Hannah. He regretted this immediately. The skin had turned an angry red colour and there were blisters as well as bleeding gashes. He wasn't sure if the red liquid dripping from the walls didn't contain some actual blood of his now instead of just looking like blood. His injured leg ached as well. He wasn't going to complain though. It would be futile anyway and they weren't supposed to think he was weak. He needed to block out the pain. The Carrows had been thorough teachers of this skill.

Hannah cleaned in silence without giving any visible sign of discomfort. The gloves seemed to protect her hands from the potion and her legs were uninjured as well. Neville was glad that she at least wasn't suffering for her foolish attempt to come to his aid. If it hadn't been for her, the punishment would take even longer.

As it seemed to Neville an eternity later, they were finally finished.

"The school walls are finally clean again," Mrs Lestrange stated. "And they will remain that way. If you start this again, you'll clean it off again, it's as simple as that. Do you understand this?"

Hannah muttered something which sounded like "yes" while Neville remained silent. He did know that they were right. Graffiti wouldn't be much use anymore if they could be cleaned off so easily now. There might be some chance to keep them at least long enough for people to see them if the DA took better precautions against being caught right away.

"Good. For you Hannah, this is all," Lestrange said. "Neville, I want to see you in my office tomorrow, eight o clock."

"Yes," Neville said through gritted teeth. Of course he wouldn't accept his silence.

Hannah pulled off the gloves and returned them to Neville. She gasped in shock when she saw the state of his right hand. "Oh Neville, I'm so sorry," she said, her eyes full of tears. "It's all my fault and I only wanted to help."

"You're not helping anyone by lying to us," Mrs Lestrange said. "We know if someone's lying, so don't bother in future."

"Your story wasn't very believable in the first place," her husband added. "If you try this again, you'll get detention too."

Hannah nodded quietly.

"I'll accompany you back to your common room," Mrs Lestrange said. "Wandering through the school at night is forbidden for a reason you know."

Neville took a deep breath. He didn't like this at all. He didn't want Hannah to go off with Bellatrix Lestrange alone. Neville also knew that they were trying to keep them apart on purpose. They didn't want to allow them to talk to each other and comfort each other.

"And you, show me your hand," Lestrange said.

Neville obeyed reluctantly. He had to think of Umbridge again. She had only put him in detention once but it had been enough to leave him with a mixture of terror and disgust. In hindsight, Neville didn't mind it that much anymore. It had been good preparation for life at Hogwarts with the Death Eaters.

"I think you should accompany me to my office," Lestrange told him.

Neville shrugged. He hadn't believed that cleaning the walls would be enough for them anyway. Finding out what they would do in this kind of situation had been one of Neville's reasons to do this tonight. He was going to find out now which meant it hadn't been completely in vain after all.

Neville's leg was still aching but he knew this was his own fault. If he hadn't been stupid enough to fall into this trick stair, things might never have come to this. Maybe. If Lestrange had caught Hannah anyway, the might have truly believed it had been her idea. Why had she claimed this? She had never been overly bold usually, more one of the people who helped and encouraged the others. Neville really would have liked to ask but this would have to wait for the next day.

They finally reached the office of the DADA-teacher or now Dark Arts teacher. "Take a seat," Lestrange said and Neville obeyed reluctantly. At least, he didn't have to stand on his injured leg anymore.

Neville had seen this office under all his previous teachers in this subject. Each year, he had been asked to come here for some reason. Professor Quirrell had everything filled with garlic to keep the vampires out and other talismans had been there as well. Lockhart had filled the office with portrays of himself and nice quills to give autographs, not much different from his part of Saint Mungo's now. In Professor Lupin's time, Neville had seen books and various dark creatures in the office. He had met Lupin quite a few times to discuss his problems at school. Lupin had been one of the few teachers who had ever truly cared about this. For a while, Neville had believed that Moody did the same. He had filled his office with various instruments to detect dark magic and some books. After the lesson about the Unforgivable curses, he had offered him tea and done his best to calm him down. He still had this book about Mediterranean water plants somewhere. Finding out that Moody hadn't been Moody but a Death Eater and one of his parents' torturers had been a shock. The situation hadn't really been that different from the one he was in now, only that Lestrange didn't attempt to hide what he was.

Under Umbridge, he had been subjected to questioning a few times, Neville felt ashamed now when he remembered how scared he had been back then. Snape hat attempted to make him believe that he wasn't really good enough for advanced DADA-class but the effort had been futile.

Never had he been forced to come here as often as had been the case under the Carrows though. Amycus Carrow had made him use a Blood Quill too, beaten him, subjected him to the Cruciatus curse or had others do the same, all in this room the walls of which had been adorned with torture instruments.

The torture instruments were gone now but Neville was rather sure that the different coloured potions on the shelves served the same purpose. There were lots of books and files as well and to Neville's surprise, a pot of Goldberry Weed and two mundane room plants. None of his predecessors had ever kept plants in the office. There was nothing in this room that made it look like the office of a Dark Arts teacher.

As if he had read Neville's mind, once again, Lestrange said: "Cursing mundane objects to do magical harm has little to do with true dark magic. It comes down to the power of the well-disciplined mind alone. The Dark Arts require nothing but a wand or a potion and sometimes not even that."

He opened one of his cabinets and fetched a wooden box as well as a bowl and a bottle of some yellowish potion. Then he took another one from one of his shelves. He filled the bowl with potion and put some of the other potion into a spray bottle.

Neville watched apprehensively. He had no idea where this was going. He looked at his wrist watch. It was one in the morning already. At least, he only had Charms the next day and not in the first period either. He could get some rest until then if Lestrange didn't intend to keep him here all night or did something that made getting rest impossible.

"Stretch out your hand," Lestrange said.

Neville obeyed reluctantly. He knew that any refusal would only have made him look scared. He wanted to avoid this at any cost.

Lestrange took the yellowish potion and began spraying it onto Neville's hand. The blisters burst open. It hurt so badly that Neville needed all his self-control to keep himself from making a sound or withdrawing his hand. He succeeded though which made him feel faintly proud.

When he had finished, Lestrange placed the bowl full of potion on the table in front of Neville. "Put your hand in there."

Neville hesitated for a moment. Following this command seemed like a very stupid thing to do. Neville still didn't want to show any weakness and did as he was told. The second potion felt cool on his skin. Touching it wasn't painful. Neville watched nervously what was happening. At first, the potion seemed to do nothing at all. Then Neville noticed that the wounds seemed to get smaller.

About five minutes later, they were barely visible anymore. Neville's hand looked only slightly red now.

"That should do," Lestrange said. "Let me have a look at your leg now."

"I don't want your help!" Neville said loudly.

Michael Corner had talked about his healing magic before and voiced the suspicion that he might use it. Neville hadn't really been able to fathom what this might mean earlier but now he got an idea. He was able to vanish any traces of the punishments he dealt out so the others wouldn't see what their fellow students had been through anymore.

"If you wish to explain to your classmates why you're limping, this is your choice," Lestrange said. "I'm sure you'll see Madam Pomfrey if the problems becomes too severe. I couldn't let you go off with the hand injury though. The cleansing potion contains white essence of Medea's Leaf and it's a mind-altering poison. This would have caused too much trouble."

Neville had never heard of a plant called Medea's Leaf, something he intended to change as soon as possible. He hoped that books about the plant wouldn't be in the Restricted Section too. At the moment, Neville didn't know if Lestrange was telling him the truth or not. He had gotten one thing right though. Neville didn't feel like answering questions about his injured leg. So if he could get rid of the problem right now, why not? Lestrange had already proven that he knew what he was doing. If he made the injury worse, he could still go to Madam Pomfrey and tell the others about it.

"Alright, have a look at it," Neville said.

Neville pulled his robes up to his knees. The leg was scratched; there was no other visible damage. Lestrange examined it by moving his hands over the skin without actually touching.

"It's a simple contusion," he said. "This should be dealt with quickly."

He traced the injured parts of Neville's leg with his wand and spoke a spell Neville didn't understand exactly. The effects were immediate. The leg felt normal again, apart from the slight burning of the outer wounds.

"This your body should deal with itself," Lestrange said. "I hope you're going to behave in a more reasonable manner in future."

He reached into the pocket of his robes once more and withdrew the spray can and Neville's wand. "Here, your wand. You'll need it tomorrow. I can't give you the paint can back before you've taken your NEWTs I'm afraid."

Neville took his wand back. At least, it was still whole. He didn't know how he would have explained to his grandmother that he had broken his second wand and in such a ridiculous manner as well.

"Off you go. Goodnight," Lestrange said.

Neville left without a word. This had been a complete failure. He had learned a few things though. The Lestranges obviously weren't interested in punishing them in public. They preferred to handle this discreetly. He'd need to find a way to cross these plans. Neville reached into his pocket and found the DA Galleon. It felt slightly warm.

"I'm back – everything alright – Hannah" the message read. Neville was relieved. At least something. He definitely needed to speak to her in the morning though. She couldn't do this kind of thing. They had to keep to the plans they made. If everything ended in chaos, they stood no chance whatsoever.

Neville told the Fat Lady the password and scrambled back into the common room. He quickly notified the rest of the DA that had safely returned as well, washed his hands and got into his bed quietly.


	8. Chapter 8 The Boggart

**AN:** Sorry for the long delay. Real life got in the way. I had to finish my Bachelor thesis and didn't feel like writing during this time. Now it's finished, I'm waiting for the results and I hope that I'll be able to post more regularly once more.

* * *

**The Boggart**

"I had a very bad feeling about this. I knew you'd be getting into trouble and I had to do something about it," Hannah said. She gave him a pleading look obviously hoping to hear it was okay.

Neville sighed. "You know that this kind of thing is useless, don't you? It only makes it more fun for them." Didn't she learn that much from the Carrows already? "They wouldn't believe you anyway."

"I thought they might," Hannah said. "The DA needs you. I'm not much use for them."

"Stop talking about yourself like that," Neville told her. "Everyone is needed and we all have to be more careful. It was my mistake yesterday. I don't want anyone else to pay for it, alright?"

"Yes, I'm sorry," Hannah muttered, her eyes cast down.

"Good. We won't achieve anything if we don't keep to the plan. This isn't a game. Things can turn really nasty now," Neville said. "All our graffiti are gone. I hope that the leaflet project works. This is your task now."

"I'll do my best," Hannah promised. "And I'm sorry. I really am. I only wanted to help you. I didn't want them to hurt you like he did in the lesson."

"I know," Neville said. "But I know what I'm getting into. You don't have the power to keep them from doing this. So please stop trying."

Hannah promised it.

The two left the abandoned classroom. A few Slytherin fourth-years pointed at them and giggled. "Longbottom's got himself a girlfriend, oohoo," one of them said. In the past, he would have been annoyed and probably hurt by this kind of behaviour. Now, Neville was simply relieved about the convenient cover.

Double Charms went relatively well. Professor Greengrass or Aunt Callista knew her stuff and was a pretty good teacher. She didn't say anything about the changes in staff but continued the lessons directly where they had stopped with Professor Flitwick. The new teacher kept averting Neville's eyes all through the lesson.

At least she had the decency to feel slightly ashamed about her collaboration, Neville thought. It wasn't enough though as far as he was concerned. By agreeing to work here in Professor Flitwick's place, she had declared her support for the new regime.

Charms was Neville's only class on Tuesday, something he was quiet relieved about. Last night still made him feel very tired and he slept for two hours after lunch. Neville didn't know how long Lestrange would keep him this evening and in what state he would leave his office. He suspected by now that he would do so without any visible traces of whatever had happened during the detention.

After his rest, Neville continued working through his books about the Cruciatus curse. He wanted to get all the relevant information out of them before Lestrange could decide to revoke his permission. The books didn't contain the information he hoped for though. Frances Fawley had dealt with lighter Cruciatus curse cases very successfully, the ones now labelled stage one and two, three as well maybe but not the worst stages Neville's parents were in. The other authors described the symptoms of such severe damage but they didn't seem to know much about the cause or possible counter measures either or if they did, they chose not to share this knowledge.

"You're acting like Hermione with SPEW," Seamus said when he refused to accompany him to dinner. Neville had actually decided against dinner for a different reason. He preferred to arrive for Lestrange's detention with an empty stomach. The fact that he had read in "Shattered Minds" last didn't increase his appetite either.

"Tell us the usual way when you're back from detention," Seamus said before leaving which Neville promised to do.

Two hours later, he stood in front of Lestrange's office door once more.

"Come in."

Reluctantly, Neville did so. Lestrange told him to sit down and cleared his desk of a few pieces of parchment he'd been working on. Neville recognised something for their own lesson the next day, titled: "Physical effects of overexposure to the Cruciatus curse." He was rather surprised to see that Lestrange wanted to teach this to the class.

"Oh yes, you're next lesson. Do you know what those effects are?"

Lestrange probably wanted to see Neville refuse to answer because he was afraid of the curse. Neville wasn't going to give him this satisfaction. "Fever, vomiting, incontinence, involuntary self-injury," he listed.

"Yes. These things normally happen after a relatively long time under the curse only but highly susceptible people might react differently. Those in your class who want to practice on their fellow students need to know that. Which stage of Cruciatus curse damage would be reached in this situation?"

Neville began to think about the question as if it were a normal exam, than he wondered why Lestrange was discussing this with him. Was this supposed to be the detention? Well, it could have been worse.

"One or two. The higher stages only happen after a longer period of time," Neville said.

"That's true. This can be treated relatively easily but it's still better to avoid it. Especially in class. Can you describe the five stages?"

"Yes," Neville said. Lestrange wouldn't make him show any visible discomfort with these questions. "Stage one is the first that needs treatment. The patient suffers from light dizziness, headaches, exhaustion and phantom pain in various body parts. It also affects his magic. Spells he uses in this state won't work properly anymore."

This had happened to Ginny a few times. She was even bolder than Neville and her former relationship with Harry might have been a reason for the Carrows' hatred too. Neville had tried to help her with cool compresses and potions against the pain if he got his hands on some which usually hadn't happened. He swallowed, hoping it was so quiet Lestrange wouldn't notice.

"The symptoms pass without treatment," Neville finished his explanation.

"The visible ones do but some magic damage remains," Lestrange said. "The rest was correct. Continue."

"The second stage is similar," Neville said. "The symptoms are more severe though and the person starts to suffer from disorientation and might feel that part of their body don't belong to them anymore or that their floating above their body. If this isn't the case, they're often overly emotional."

He remembered the evening when Seamus Finnigan had cried in his arms. Neville had never seen his classmate cry in front of someone else before and it had never happened afterwards either. When Lavender and Parvati told Madam Pomfrey what had happened, she gave them Goldberry Leaf Potion without thinking about the Death Eaters' rules. Neville had stayed awake by Seamus' side all night. It had been a hard night but he did recover in the end.

"These are the two stages that can be treated relatively easily. How?" Lestrange asked.

Neville didn't get the point of this exercise but he kept talking. He was lucky if nothing worse happened. "There's a counter spell but it's difficult and can only be used by trained Healers. And there's Goldberry Leaf Potion."

"That's right. The counter spell is the more effective option. Goldberry Leafs ease the pain and tension. This alone doesn't bring healing though. They only work true magic if the patient believes they will. Many however do not."

"You mean it's the patient's own fault if he doesn't get better?" Neville asked. The idea made him angry. He had voiced this question before he remembered that he was talking to Lestrange. What did he expect?

"No, that's not what I mean. This kind of reaction is part of the curse's effects. You simply need to understand that the plant's power is limited."

Neville slowly began to understand where this was heading. Lestrange wanted to show him the power of the Cruciatus curse, and the fact that that they didn't have anything to help themselves. Madam Pomfrey could not perform this counter spell for the Cruciatus curse. They'd need to go to Saint Mungo's for that and have someone like Hestia do it and this wasn't possible if the Death Eaters refused to let them leave the school. Well, he knew that anyway.

"Tell me about level three," Lestrange said.

Neville suppressed a sigh and did. "This is the first level where the counter spell doesn't work anymore."

It was still used to treat the symptoms but the help it brought was only superficial. Neville had learned when trying to find out how he could look after his parents himself.

"The patients have all the symptoms of the first levels and they usually don't remember who they are or what happened to them anymore. Their nervous function and magic are damaged and they suffer relapses and dangerous magic instabilities. Healers can treat the symptoms and give emergency serum and Goldberry Leaf potion but that's all. Some of them recover spontaneously."

Neville remembered the case of a wizard who had gotten himself into trouble with the wrong people in Knockturn Alley. He had been admitted to Saint Mungo's in this state and had recovered about a year later. Neville had been nine at the time and he had hoped that the same thing might happen to his parents. It hadn't of course. They were level four which meant that there was no chance of spontaneous recovery.

"Yes, the prognosis is very good if those people are treated properly," Lestrange said.

"Level four is similar but the symptoms are more severe and there's no hope for spontaneous recovery," Neville said. He was surprised that he was able to do so in such a cool and detached manner. "Level five patients have suffered damage so severe they aren't able to leave their beds anymore and need assistance with almost anything."

There had been a patient in this state before Mr Fortescue but he had died. Neville feared that the former owner of the ice-cream parlour wouldn't survive for long either.

"I advise you to remember what we've discussed now," Lestrange said. "It might be relevant in future."

Neville didn't know what he was hinting at but he did intend to keep these things in mind and check their truthfulness as soon as possible.

"Now I have to set your task for this evening. We have decided to return to revive the tradition of letting students do something useful in detention."

So the part about the Cruciatus curse hadn't been the real detention, Neville thought. He should have expected it. He looked at Neville and tried his best to seem calm and confident. Whatever it was, he would endure it.

"Mr Filch has found a Boggart in one of his broom cupboards and has asked us to remove it," Lestrange said. "I want you to do this. You have shown some prowess with Boggarts back in your third year I have heard."

"Yes, of course," Neville said. He smiled when he remembered Snape in his grandmother's close. This was easy.

Only on his way downstairs, the thought that Snape might not be his worst fear anymore crossed Neville's mind. During his fourth year, being subjected to the Cruciatus curse himself had been. Bellatrix Lestrange had done this and the Carrows and their helpers had repeated it numerous times. He was almost used to it by now and would learn to endure Lestrange's version too. It had taken a while with Carrow's as well.

The idea that Dumbledore might die had become his worst fear during this sixth year. It had happened just like Harry's death, the worst fear of the first months of his seventh year. His worst fears had already come true and he was still around somehow. Life continued, no matter how many horrible things happened. What would his Boggart be now? Dead Ginny or Luna or Hannah? Hannah being tortured because she wanted to stand up for him?

"It's over there," Lestrange said. "I'll make sure that no other students come this way. Simply finish it off; I'll look for you later."

Neville opened the cupboard door with an unlocking spell. He half-expected something far worse than an actual Boggart. There had to be a trap, hadn't there?

When the door flew open, no monster or Death Eater came out. Instead, Healer Hestia Jones approached Neville. Her face was pale and there were dark lines beneath her eyes. She looked harried but not seriously ill or anything. Neville was outraged. How could Lestrange ask the Healer to wait for Neville in a broom cupboard?

"I'm glad you're here," she said. "I have something to discuss with you. Maybe you should sit down."

Neville looked around. There were no chairs and he didn't want to sit on the ground. He shook his head quietly. A heavy feeling spread through his stomach. She wasn't talking in this tone if she didn't have really bad news. "No, thanks. It's alright," he said in a small voice.

"Well, as you wish," Healer Jones said. "I'm here because of your parents."

Neville swallowed.

"I won't beat around the bush," the Healer continued. "Their state has worsened considerably in the course of the last few days."

"What, what does that mean?" Neville tried to force his voice to remain calm.

"Their state is deteriorating quickly," Hestia said. "We don't know why for sure but we can all guess, can't we? Death Eaters are running the place now. The problem is, there's no way to reverse this. I'm so sorry to tell you that but your parents won't live for long anymore. A week maybe, or two."

Neville swallowed hard once more. He didn't want to her to know how upset he was. Many people had said again and again that Neville's parents would be better off dead. A part of him he felt very ashamed for had actually agreed. There was no hope for them and the life they were leading couldn't really be called a live, could it? Now that he was faced with this truth, these feelings were gone. If they died, there was no hope of improvement left. No hope at all. It would be over and they had seemed quite content last time he had visited them.

"There is something else," Hestia added. "In their current state, your parents are both suffering great pain and distress. There's no chance to save their lives anymore but they could be given a potion called Essence of Easing. It would ease their pain as the name says but it would also cause their death to come quickly. This is a decision we can't make on our own. You as their relatives have to make it. Do you want us to give her this potion to make them suffer less even though it leads to a quicker death? Their death is inevitable anyway."

Neville stared at the grey wall behind the cupboard. "I can't, couldn't, don't you think you should ask my grandmother?" he stuttered. He couldn't make this kind of decision. He simply couldn't.

"Your grandmother's opinion is also required in your father's case but you have to decide about your mother," Hestia said.

Neville simply stared at her. He was unable to give an answer.

"Neville?" Lestrange had approached unnoticed from behind. "Do you have any plan?"

Neville flinched but didn't respond at all.

Lestrange obviously took this as a no. "Stand back," he ordered.

Neville made a few steps backwards. Hestia didn't seem to notice the Death Eater's presence at all. Her eyes were fixed on Neville at all.

When Lestrange stood closer than Neville, she was suddenly gone. He gaped at the place where she had stood, open-mouthed.

When he recognised the figure that stood there now, he took a few more steps back. It was Lord Voldemort, pale-faced, red-eyed and bald. Neville realised something else. This was indeed a Boggart. Lestrange had never asked Hestia Jones to wait for him in the broom cupboard. It was a Boggart and Neville had made a complete fool of himself.

Voldemort began to talk: "I called you here so you'd have time to say goodbye to your wife. Before Azkaban, she was one of my best followers but the prison has driven her mad. Now all she can do is prancing around me like a Knockturn Alley whore. This behaviour disgusts me. She has outlived her usefulness and Lord Voldemort has no patience for useless followers. I'm going to dispose of her. Don't bother warning her. She'll listen to me over you anyway."

Neville barely listened. There were other things on his mind.

He did notice when Voldemort started to sing "A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love" with an accompanying dance though. In most other situations, he would have laughed at the sight. Lestrange did and the Boggart vanished in a cloud of smoke.

"I'd be grateful if you didn't mention this in front of the Dark Lord or my wife," Lestrange said matter-of-factly.

"Sure. Next time, I'm having tea with them, I'll be careful to keep my mouth shut," Neville said. He didn't want Lestrange to know how he was feeling even though he knew it would be little use. He didn't know much the Death Eater had seen but he definitely knew that Neville had failed to get rid of the Boggart.

"Come along," Lestrange said.

Neville obeyed reluctantly. He wondered what would be next. Hopefully, the others wouldn't find out that he was unable to get rid of a Boggart now, something any third-year could do. He looked around. At least, there didn't seem to be any spectators nearby. Neville was so angry at himself. Why had he fallen for this so easily? The idea that Hestia Jones giving him this piece of bad news being his Boggart had never occurred to him even though it had made perfect sense. The situation at Saint Mungo's was one of the things that worried him most, not least because of Lestrange's involvement. He kept pointing out his knowledge about the Cruciatus curse all the time. What Neville had seen from his Boggart could come true any day.

The people passing them in the corridors gave Neville pitying looks. They didn't know why he was so distraught. Probably expected some painful punishment he had been enduring. Neville almost wished it had been that. Physical wounds healed but his worries were etched into his mind and wouldn't go away until the situation changed.

"Sit," Lestrange ordered when they had finally returned to his office.

Neville obeyed, wondering what would be next. Maybe he'd add the painful kind of punishment after all.

Lestrange merely talked. "Did you read about Essence of Easing somewhere?"

Neville looked at the darkened window behind him. He didn't feel like looking at him. So Lestrange had overheard Neville's conversation with the Boggart, at least the last part. This was bad, very bad. They had attempted to keep his worry about his parents hidden from the Death Eaters. This chance had been wasted now.

Neville swallowed.

"I've asked you a question," Lestrange said calmly. "Essence of Easing?"

Neville considered stubborn disobedience but decided that it wasn't worth it in this case. He would seem stronger if he was able to answer. Remembering about the potion took him a while but finally, he did. He had just read about it a few hours earlier in the book "Shattered Minds."

"It doesn't work because it only helps against physical pain," Neville summoned the anonymous author's opinion up. "That's what I read."

When he tried to remember harder, he recalled a few instances where the Healers had given this potion to his parents if their state was especially bad. Mostly Stebbins and Strout. He was inclined to trust them more than he trusted the author of "Shattered Minds" who seemed to have been an avid user of the Cruciatus curse himself. If he told the truth, using such potions in cases like Neville's parents had horrible side effects. This didn't matter at the moment though. He certainly wasn't going to tell Lestrange.

"Exactly," the Death Eater said. "You also know I assume that Healer Jones' oath forbids her to suggest what the Boggart told you. These are signs that could have shown you that something's wrong but instead, you let your feelings overrule your reason. Turning off your mind in a situation of distress is unwise, Neville."

Neville didn't answer. He had no interest in advice from Lestrange.

"Unwise but not uncommon," he continued. "Especially in Gryffindors. I find it closer to home as well though. Imagine, if it had been real, you might have agreed to this madness without even asking if other options have been tried."

Neville wanted to refuse to imagine this but he failed. He couldn't deny that Lestrange had a point. He needed to keep a cool head if he wanted to lead the others properly no matter what happened. He should never allow this kind of thing to happen. Why would Lestrange tell him this though? He wanted the resistance to fail after all.

Part of him felt like defending himself. "It wasn't that unrealistic. You could do what has happened in the Boggart-vision, couldn't you?"

Neville thought he would surely get a "yes" for an answer but Lestrange surprised him once again. "Anyone with basic knowledge in potions making for example could," he said calmly. Neville wondered if he wanted to keep him from thinking that taking him out of the picture would make his parents safer. He knew that Lestrange wasn't wrong of course. Brewing poisons wasn't difficult and any Death Eater would have the chance to slip one to Neville's parents. Individuals had little effect on the outcome. If he had believed this was different, he would have acted by now.

"It's not uncommon for Boggarts to change when someone grows up. The fears of the child and the fears of the adult aren't the same," Lestrange said. "I would have everyone practice the charm again in seventh year but this time we'll be otherwise occupied until the end of term I'm sure. You're afraid of the decisions you have to make and with good reason. Part of you still seems to think that this is a game. Talking back to teachers like you all would never have dared in the past, spraying graffiti on school walls, sabotaging class and so on. You know what the consequences for you and your fellows are but you think making this stand is more important. To you, this is a nice chance to prove yourself, to show you've changed, to get respect."

Anger rose in Neville as he heard these words from Lestrange. Was he really unable to understand or did he just pretend? Neville thought it had to be the latter but he didn't hesitate to tell him.

"I know you probably can't imagine this but I'm not doing this because of myself. We need to stand up for what is right if no one else does. I won't watch my fellow students being tortured and imprisoned and do nothing about it!"

"There's no need to shout. The Carrows have made some mistakes, I won't deny that," Lestrange responded calmly. "That doesn't change the fact that you're acting like a naive child. How much do you really know about the man whose army you claim to lead?"

Neville opened his mouth to defend Dumbledore but Lestrange didn't let him talk. "I don't need to hear it. Think about it, that's all. Professor Snape has told me about your past life in this school. You weren't exactly known for your bravery or talent, were you? You used to be anything but popular, right?"

Neville remained silent though Lestrange could probably guess the answer.

"Everything has changed now. They look up to you as their leader. One could almost say that nothing better could have happened to you. You've shed your fear; you've gladly endured the pain they threw at you, the more people watching the better."

"I'm not doing this for myself," Neville repeated slowly. If Lestrange didn't get it now, he couldn't help him.

"There are cultures that require young boys to show that they can endure pain before they're acknowledged as men. Ours isn't one of them but that doesn't keep you from doing just that. But doing it on your own isn't enough for you. You lead others along and make them endure the same. You don't ask if they're as prepared to do so as you are. They follow because they don't want to be seen as cowards and face the consequences and all because of you."

"I'm not making anyone do anything. It wasn't my fault that they've been hurt. It was the Carrows'."

It was outrageous how Lestrange twisted the facts.

"You soon knew what the consequences were but you still kept it up," Lestrange said.

"I've already told you why," Neville said. "The Carrows did the wrong thing by torturing their students. We did nothing wrong."

"What the Carrows did to you will be nothing compared to the things the Dark Lord will do to you if you keep this up," Lestrange said. "Do you really think he will simply let you go off if you don't stop?"

Neville shrugged. "We'll fight for our freedom if we have to. If we lose, we'll face the consequences."

He had thought about this many times. Neville didn't want to die so course, of course he didn't. If fate didn't give him a choice, he would face this however.

"That's what I'm here for to prevent," Lestrange said. "You and maybe dozens more fine young people throwing their lives away without really knowing what they're fighting for and what they're fighting against."

"I know enough," Neville responded.

"No, you don't. And I can promise you one thing, Neville. I, and quite a few of my fellows are prepared to do whatever it takes to keep you from this utter foolishness. We're trying it with words but if words are not enough, we'll act. When I say whatever it takes, I mean it. If necessary, I'll show you and your followers real pain you can't shrug off. The curse I cast on you during our lesson was only a foretaste. If necessary, I will make your parents' fate depend on your behaviour. Be reasonable and keep these things unnecessary. Make it easier for both of us. I do have quite a few things to teach you that I'm sure would interest you."

"Your threats don't impress me," Neville said simply.

He didn't doubt that Lestrange was serious but giving in wasn't an option. Thinking the Boggart-scene through rationally, Neville realised that doing this for real wouldn't be a wise move on Lestrange's part at all. He knew that Neville and maybe other people as well would detest him even more afterwards. It would be no use. The fellow DA members were the ones in real danger. They would have to be even more careful.

"That's all for tonight," Lestrange said, ignoring Neville's response. "You may go. See you at your first lesson tomorrow."

Neville left the office without a greeting. He had gathered a few important facts he would share with the others at the next meeting.

Detention over – everything fine – Neville he posted on the DA coin as soon as he had reached the dormitory which was inhabited by members alone.


	9. Chapter 9 The First Week Doesn't End Wel

**The First Doesn't End Well**

Neville wasn't sure if the disaster that ensued when the seventh-years tried to cast the Cruciatus curse with the help of Lestrange's nightmare method was caused on purpose or not. Either way, the lesson was quite entertaining to watch. Tables were set on fire, spiders turned bright green, windows broke and ink pots exploded. Blaise Zabini blasted his spider into pieces and Morag McDougal somehow managed to make hers escape through the solid wall. More disturbingly, a few people suffered convulsions themselves when they tried to cast the curse.

Lestrange tried his best to keep things from getting out of control completely. He didn't seem to mind the Gryffindors' refusal to cast the curse at all. Maybe he was relieved that they didn't add to the chaos in his classroom. He dealt with the situation in his usual, almost unnaturally calm way. Lavender wondered aloud if he took potions to achieve this and Neville thought it was quite possible.

The new rule that asked people who wanted to cast the Cruciatus curse on others to volunteer as subjects themselves had brought the enthusiasm among the usual suspects down to zero. No one chose this path but Goyle "accidently" hit Susan Bones with the curse. She endured it calmly like Neville would have done and Lestrange put Goyle in detention. He obviously tried to get on the non-Slytherins' good side, Neville thought. Not that he'd stand much of a chance with the DA members.

Wednesday evening, the DA had their second meeting of the year. Neville told the others about his detention and Lestrange's words. He didn't explicitly mention his parents but he did tell them about Lestrange's threat to harm sick family members at Saint Mungo's. Everyone was outraged by this of course and they decided to warn their family to stay away from the hospital if possible.

Everyone agreed that they wouldn't let the threat of severe pain deter them from their fight. Hannah, Susan and Justin had prepared the leaflets and would pass them around on Thursday. No one considered stopping the action. Neville was proud of them. He had feared that telling the truth might frighten them but honesty was important. He wasn't going to make Lestrange's claim come true and ask them to do something without knowing about the consequences.

Luna and the other six-years had already had their first History of Magic lesson with Bellatrix Lestrange. Nothing noteworthy seemed to have happened though. So far, she hadn't told them anything overly outrageous. "Everything is anti-Muggle of course but that doesn't surprise anyone now, does it?" Luna said. "She focuses on wizard's history though. It seems to be alright so far. Madam Lestrange was slightly taken aback when I asked her if she wanted to talk about the Rotfang Conspiracy but well, I would have been surprised if she had. Some things are always hushed up."

Neville had never heard of the "Rotfang Conspiracy". Mrs Lestrange would probably realise that the things Luna asked about didn't exist at some point but maybe it would take a while. Thinking out of the box was unusual in Death Eaters.

"Good. We should take a stand if she's lying too blatantly but maybe it's better if we do it in the seventh-year class," Neville said. "You're the only DA member in yours."

Colin Creevey wasn't allowed to return to Hogwarts because of his Muggle-born status and Ginny hadn't returned either. The DA members still hadn't received any information about her.

They tried to find out something by turning on Potterwatch but there didn't seem to be a program. It made Neville wonder if Lee and the others had given up after all.

"Someone should observe the official media," Anthony Goldstein said. "No matter how many disgusting lies they print, maybe we can find the truth hidden somewhere. Does anyone still get the Prophet?"

Neville's grandmother had already cancelled the Longbottoms' subscription during the summer before his fifth year. He hadn't gotten his own because he like her hadn't been able to trust the paper anymore.

"There's the Quibbler of course," Luna said. "Dad is more careful now though. He's afraid they might take me again, you see."

"Understandable," Neville said.

Michael Corner and the Patil twins obviously received the Daily Prophet. "Dad would send us his copies of the Healer Magazine too if you're interested," he said. "I don't know if there's any Death Eater stuff in there though."

"I'm definitely interested," Neville said, trying to push the Boggart out of his head.

"I'm getting the Magical Echo," Anthony said. "This used to be better than the Prophet but now everything's the same."

"They're all scared," Neville noted. "We should observe the radio as well. The official stations."

"They mainly have rubbish though," Seamus said. "Beltane Night Charity Concert and stuff like that. As if anyone felt like celebrating at the moment."

"They hope to lull people in," Neville said. "Too bad so many go along with it."

When the media question had been settled, the DA members spend the rest of the evening on duelling practice. With Ginny gone, Neville actually was best in this area, it was a strange feeling. He tried his best to encourage the others but deep done he knew that no matter how flattening it was to be in this position, he wasn't that good and they wouldn't stand a chance against trained Death Eaters and Ministry officials if they didn't get much better until school ended.

Charms and Herbology on Thursday went without any noteworthy incidents. Professor Dunstan had turned slightly more confident and let them do more by themselves. Maybe he believed that they had been properly taught before now. In Charms, they practiced a spell that was supposed to make people's bones visible so you could see if anything was broken. Neville wondered if Professor Greengrass did this on purpose so they could tell how severe the injuries they received were more easily. Maybe she did intend to resist the Death Eaters in small ways. It would have been more useful with the Carrows in charge though. Neville doubted that Lestrange would actually let people go off with broken bones. Maybe if it was supposed to be an example. During the Carrow months, there had been students with bleeding wounds or bandages somewhere all the time. In the course of this week, they had vanished completely. The Lestranges obviously didn't keep Madam Pomfrey from treating the injured and so far, they hadn't added any new ones. Neville assumed that they weren't very interested in methods that caused visible wounds anyway. Mr Lestrange at least was not, Neville wasn't sure about his wife.

On Wednesday evening, he noticed that students in the halls were passing pieces of spare parchment to one another, often having rather shocked looks on their faces. The leaflet project was bearing fruit and they seemed to reach many people. The Hufflepuffs had done a great job.

In their usual modest ways, they managed to act completely normal. No one would suspect that they had been up to anything. When the pictures reached Slytherin hands, no one would know where they came from anymore. He was positive that Hannah and the others were relatively safe.

After dinner, Neville and Seamus played a few rounds of Exploding Snap before going to bed. Neville couldn't remember any evening during his seventh school year where they had done this before. There had always been detention or other victims of detention to be taken care of. This realisation made Neville lose all pleasure from the game. They were acting as if everything was normal but it wasn't. Voldemort and the Death Eaters were still in charge, Muggle-borns were still kept away. There were only two boys who could play because Harry was dead, Ron imprisoned and Dean forbidden from returning because of his unclear blood status.

"You might be wondering why I've chosen to teach History of Magic of all things," Bellatrix Lestrange said while she was walking up to the blackboard. There was no need to call the class to order, everyone had been deadly quiet anyway.

"It's such a boring, useless subject, isn't it?" she asked waving her hands.

No one dared to admit that they did indeed think so and were only there because the subject had become obligatory.

Neville carefully observed Lestrange. She had her hair tied up and wore long, elaborate robes and jewellery, obviously trying to be the image of a proper pure-blood lady.

"You have been taught to believe that this subject is useless and so have I and my parents before me. Did you ever wonder why? Understanding where we come from is of crucial importance, don't you agree? Why did the Headmasters presiding over this school before Professor Snape let you learn nothing but the most boring aspects of our history? The answer is easy. Many things have happened in the past that the old Ministry didn't want you to know about. The reasons for this were varied. Some of them were born from good intentions. They used to believe that young people might not be able to deal with unpleasant truths about their own or their neighbours ancestors. They feared that discussing the many violent conflicts between witches and wizards, not between us and other beings such as Goblins might cause friction and bad feelings still."

Neville had to admit that she wasn't quite wrong. Binns had never talked about earlier wizarding wars even though Neville was sure that there had been some. The one where Dumbledore had vanquished Grindelwald for example. They hadn't learned anything at all about this. All Neville knew about it came from his elderly relatives who had lived through it.

"Some of you might learn things they didn't know before. Some of these things might be quite shocking. There was a time when my husband's people wished death upon mine and all of our kind for example. You will be surprised when you learn who used to fight side by side and who used to be enemies in past wars. Especially those of you who've joined our society more recently."

Her dark eyes lingered on the Patil twins for a moment. Parvati shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

"After each of these wars, there's been a period of reconstruction. Witches and wizards realised that there was something far more important than whatever they fought over. Their common magical heritage. At the moment, we are at the very beginning of such a period. Learning about the others can come in useful for all of you."

"If you believe it's over, you're mistaken," Neville said loudly. He couldn't listen to this any longer.

"You will also learn that each time, there have been people who failed to see the signs. Some of them realised their errors in time while others did not. The new society had no place for them." She looked at Neville with narrowed eyes leaving the threat hanging in the air.

"Now let's proceed to the other reason why you've been kept from the facts about your people's past. It can be summoned up with one word, Muggles. The people in power used to want you to believe that Muggles are harmless and cute animals who happen to look like humans and sometimes give birth to magical children, the so-called Muggle-borns. This is a bunch of lies! Muggles used to pose a real danger in the past, especially to the young and vulnerable members of our society. They've turned even more dangerous know because they've developed a variety of new ways to control nature and use her to their purposes without magic. I'll teach you about that towards the end of our class. The second lie is the one about "Muggle-born witches and wizards". They do not exist."

Neville and many other people snorted at this. "Ridiculous," Seamus said. "So Dean and Hermione were phantoms?"

"Hearing this must be quite shocking, I know that. The truth is very simple. Every man or woman with magical powers must have an ancestor who has such powers as well. It doesn't have to be the parent, children of Squibs often show magic again as well but the magical ancestors must have been there. No magical ancestor, no magic, it's as simple as that. So-called Muggle-borns either have a magical ancestor they don't know about, aren't the child of the people they believe are their parents or worst of all, have magic because it has been stolen for them by misguided witches and wizards who want to propagate unhealthy ties between Muggles and the magical community. These children's magic has been taken from a real magical child and is given to the Muggle child. I don't have to explain that the results of this are disastrous and do not end with a magical competent Muggle. You can be sure that what has been called "talented Muggle-borns" have powerful magical blood somewhere even though it has been strongly diluted by Muggle blood of course."

"Well, maybe Granger was actually a descendent of this famous potioneer," Neville heard Theodore Nott whisper to Zabini.

Lestrange waited until the whispers had died down, then she said: "There's much you should be taught but our time is strictly limited. That's why I'm forced to restrict myself to the most important events of our history."

She began to write on the board.

"We will start with magical life in Avalon, Merlin and Morgana and the destruction of Avalon after her death. Next, we will of course deal with the foundation of Hogwarts, the first years of the school and the troubles between the house founders that ensued. The Norman Conquest carried out by witches and wizards as well as Muggles will be our next subject matter including the wizarding war that followed it and cost many lives. We will discuss the truth about the Muggle witch hunts and the reasons for banning the curses you have learned to refer to as "unforgivable." Our next topic will be Muggle industrialisation and its results on magic followed by the history of the Grindelwald wars as well as the two major Muggle wars happening at the same time. This will need us to discuss the new developments in Muggle weaponry, some of which threatening our kinds as well. We will finish this course with the fall of Grindelwald and the immediate aftermath of this war. This is a tight schedule we have here and you will be required to work hard. You can believe me one thing though, it will be worth it. Let's begin."

They spend the rest of the double period listening to Lestrange telling them about the culture and lifestyle of Avalonian witches and wizards in comparison to those living among the Muggles. She also had various pictures she projected onto the white walls by magic. Neville didn't know how accurate they were but he had to admit that they were quite impressive. Her history lessons were more interesting than those of Binns; he had to give her credit for that. Bellatrix Lestrange was extremely passionate about the subjects she talked about and so far, everything seemed to be more or less accurate. At least, it matched the things Neville's relatives, especially Callidora had told him. Lestrange spent quite a bit of time dwelling on the dirt and disease the Muggles lived in while witches and wizards were cleanly and healthy but apart from that, she didn't insult Muggles too much.

Neville wasn't sure if he liked this. Everyone had realised that Alecto wasn't giving them useful information. Here, this wasn't so easy. She could mix lies and insults into the truths and many people might not notice at all. More work for the DA to get the truth out.

Neville was halfway through lunch when he remembered the new institution of flying lessons for everyone that was going to spoil his otherwise free afternoon. He had always been content to watch Quidditch from the sidelines and hadn't had any ambitions to play himself. Therefore he hadn't practiced his flying skills at all which meant that they were probably still abysmally bad.

After lunch, Neville faced trouble of a very different kind. In a gesture that put Neville off extremely, Lestrange laid a hand on his shoulder. He had once again managed to approach Neville completely unnoticed.

"Come with me, Neville," he said softly. The tone of his voice was quite different from usual and Neville suspected that this would mean something unpleasant. Reluctantly, he followed. Neville didn't want to cause a scene in front of everyone in the Entrance Hall. Lestrange led him through a small corridor and into a deserted classroom.

He closed the door behind them and gave Neville a piercing look. "I told you that this book wasn't meant for the eyes of the entire school," he said coldly. "And you have nothing better to do than take the pictures and hand them around to most of your fellow students? Explain yourself."

Neville tried to take a deep breath quietly enough so Lestrange wouldn't notice how tense he was. How did he know? Who had told him about the leaflets? And why did he associate them with Neville right away? Well, the last question wasn't hard to answer. Lestrange knew that he had given Neville permission to read this book. Other people probably didn't have access to it. At least, this would mean that the Hufflepuffs were safe. He could deal with whatever punishment Lestrange would deal out but he didn't want Justin or the girls be forced to endure it.

"I'm waiting," Lestrange said.

"People need to know the truth about the Cruciatus curse," Neville said. There was no reason to lie. "Not your pretences that it's completely normal. It is not normal and it is extremely dangerous."

"I should have known that handing you this book was a mistake," Lestrange said. "You know exactly that there's no danger of serious harm if the curse is used the way we do in class. Do you really think you're doing your classmates a favour if you frighten them away from it? The Dark Lord requires you to know about these curses."

"People need to do the right thing, no matter how dangerous it might be," Neville responded.

"And you, a seventeen-year old with little insight into the situation at hand believe you know what the right thing is?" Lestrange said. "You're an even greater fool than I thought Neville Longbottom."

This was the first time he used his surname, Neville thought. He had never liked the new approach of addressing everyone by their first names but he still noticed it. The insult didn't affect him. He couldn't care less about Lestrange's opinion of his intelligence.

"I'm surprised by your behaviour after the conversation we had on Tuesday," Lestrange said. "You still think this is a game, don't you? You believe I'm merely making empty threats."

"If you think you can scare me, you're wrong," Neville told him. "Nothing you can possibly do will make me give up."

"My opinion of your intelligence declines by the minute," Lestrange said. "If you're not prepared to listen, you'll have to face the consequences."

He reached for his wand. Neville expected him to cast the Cruciatus curse and braced himself for the sensation. He needed to learn to resist Lestrange's as well, the more often he used, the easier it would become.

"Expelliarmus," Lestrange said calmly and the wand from Neville's pocket flew into his hands.

"You won't need your wand this weekend, Neville," the Death Eater said. "You will spend it at Azkaban, an excellent place to think about the sensibility of your actions."

Neville looked at the wand in Lestrange's hand and clenched his fist. This was exactly the kind of situation he had wanted to avoid. Without a wand, he had no chance to defend himself. The Death Eaters wanted to cart him off to Azkaban, it wasn't really surprising. The prison was full of people who opposed Voldemort's regime nowadays or so the rumours said. He had simply walked into the trap even though he should have known better.

"I still have class this afternoon," he said. "Flying." Compared to Azkaban, the thought of making a fool of himself on a broomstick was actually comforting. He might have a chance to escape this way. "Your wife would want me to attend her lesson, wouldn't she? I'll come quietly afterwards."

This was a lie but Neville did his best to keep his voice even. He hoped Lestrange wouldn't pick up on it.

He shook his head. "I'm not a fool, Neville. Bellatrix will have to hold her lesson without you. I'm sure she'll understand why that's necessary. There's no time to waste."

He called for a House Elf. One of the small creatures appeared, ready to obey his commands. Neville recognised the female Elf. It was Winky; a depressed House Elf Hermione had tried to take care of.

Hermione and Ron, they were both in Azkaban or so Neville assumed. Maybe, this way he'd find out what had happened to them if they were still alive. There might even be a chance for all of them to escape. Maybe there was a reason why things went the way they did.

"Fetch spare clothes and a toothbrush for Neville here," Lestrange told Winky. The Elf hurried off to carry out the order.

Lestrange looked at Neville, his eyes slightly narrowed. "Don't worry, Azkaban hasn't changed yet. The system is still the same it used to be under the old Ministry."

"Only one in four Death Eaters survived." Neville hadn't meant to say this aloud but he obviously had.

"Is that so, Neville?" he said softly. "Few of them were brave Gryffindors such as yourself."

Winky returned with the things Lestrange had told her to fetch from the dormitories in a small back. Lestrange dismissed the House Elf before he took Neville's bag and cast an Accio to retrieve the things he carried in his pockets. Among them, to Neville's horror the DA Galleon. "Can I keep my money? The Lestranges aren't so poor you need to steal from me, are they?"

"What do you want with it in Azkaban? Bribe the Dementors?" There was a rather nasty smile on Lestrange's face.

Neville gritted his teeth. He knew there was no way to retrieve the Galleon without attracting suspicion. He could merely hope that Lestrange wouldn't check it for magic. His only way to communicate with the others was gone now. Hopefully he'd get it back if he ever got back.

"Let's not waste any more time," Lestrange said. "Come along."


End file.
